


Here be Dragons

by Cookie



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - How to Train Your Dragon Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 13:08:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie/pseuds/Cookie
Summary: Uther becomes convinced that Morgana has been kidnapped by the dragons of the north.  He sends Arthur and Merlin on a mission but he has war on his mind.  On a rare day free with Astrid and Valka, Hiccup sees a dragon he doesn't recognise and learns of the Great Dragons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story is set in the Merlin Universe between series 2 and 3. I do play fast and loose with canon as I bring some events from later seasons into this. In the How to Train Your Dragon Universe this is set after the second movie.

Hiccup glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the two women following them. Neither of their dragons could beat Toothless for speed, and he patted the black hide of his Nightfury in absent affection, but Toothless was in no hurry today and so they could keep up easily.

The sharp pain of his father’s loss was easing slightly but though the presence of his mother in his life was a new joy, there couldn’t help but be a pall over it. He sighed and then patted Toothless again as he cocked an ear backwards. It was uncanny sometimes, the way Toothless could pick up on his moods. He shook the sudden sadness aside, staring over the ocean until he could pick out the small, deserted island they were heading for. 

Toothless veered towards it in his own elegant way, spreading his wings wide and gliding through the air. It was a rocky outcrop with sheer sides rising directly from the waves, and cliffs high enough to deter anyone attempting to make land by more traditional means. On top was a meadow, a green sward of short hardy grass covered in a mass of pink flowers.

Toothless set down first and Hiccup busied himself untying the baskets of food and the hides, spreading the furs out in a sheltered area as he waited for Astrid and his mother to join him. He didn’t waste time asking them if they needed help. They were warriors both, after all.

Hiccup intended to enjoy his rare day away. Taking up his father’s burden as chief of the tribe had been as onerous, confusing and downright frightening as he’d expected. In many ways he felt ill-suited to lead them, and yet they followed him without demur. All he could do was try not to be distracted by the hundred or so ideas he thought of during the day and instead give them the attention they needed.

A thump to the shoulder shook him out of his darkening mood and he turned to grin at Astrid. 

Later, while they were resting after their meal and talking lazily of dragons and the life they shared, all three dragons suddenly raised their heads and stared in the same direction. Hiccup got to his feet and peered out at the expanse of sky. Across the sea, coming closer, was another dragon. Except, Hiccup bit his lip as it came nearer and he realised he couldn’t put a name to the type of dragon. Beside him he heard his mother take in a sharp, shocked breath.

It came ever nearer and Hiccup gasped as he saw the sheer size of it. In the next moment, the three dragons took off and headed for it, swarming around it for a few moments. There was a second when Hiccup panicked about them being abandoned on the top of the rock, but it seemed they had only gone to exchange greetings as they soon turned and headed back. The strange dragon turned with them and flew in close, and Hiccup was captivated by great, yellow, intelligent eyes, before it beat its huge wings and gained height and speed, heading back towards the mainland.

“What the –“ Hiccup said, once he had the breath to speak.

“By all the Gods,” his mother breathed. “I didn’t think any still existed.”

“What ?” Astrid asked, staring out at the empty air, her eyes turned towards the path the dragon had taken. Her brow was puckered and her mouth pursed.

“I think it was one of the great dragons,” she said.

“Father said Uther Pendragon had killed them all,” Hiccup suppressed the shaft of pain, and hurried on as his mother winced. 

“Obviously not,” she said, and for the rest of the afternoon she spoke of legends, of dragons and dragonlords and a land where magic existed but where anyone caught using it would be put to the pyre.

 

**

 

Merlin saw him first: the oddly dressed stranger shrouded in animal skins and wearing a plain helmet, as the man led a sturdy, shaggy pony through the gates. He paused in his own progress across the courtyard, watching as the man spoke to the guard, before heading off towards the tall figure of Sir Leon.

As happened every time he saw Leon these days, Merlin felt the flare of shame. Leon still limped, his injuries from the dragon’s attack still troubling him though he remained stoic enough. Somehow, Gaius always managed to send Merlin on a seemingly urgent errand when any of the knights who’d been injured came to see him for treatment, but Gauis couldn’t hide them away, he couldn’t stop Merlin seeing the results of his folly and arrogance. Despair threatened to overwhelm him for a moment and his sight blurred, turning Leon’s red cape into a swirl of colour. The weight of guilt and grief was a heavy load to bear but he deserved every moment of it, he thought. He was to blame for everything that had gone wrong and he deserved to suffer. Drawing in a deep breath around the solid lump that seemed to have lodged permanently in his chest, he went about his own business.

 

**

 

“Where have you been? Arthur snapped at Merlin the moment he entered. “My father sent for me and I can’t find my red doublet.” He grimaced, as if aware of the petulance in his tone and when he continued his voice had calmed. “See if you could find it or something else I can wear. I need to wash.”

Merlin crossed to the wardrobe and began to sort through the disordered contents. With the loss of Morgana, and Uther’s desperate attempts to find her, on top of the loss of knights and commoners, Arthur was being drawn thin. Increasingly, he barked orders at Merlin, criticising everything he did and even though Merlin understood he didn’t really mean it, the loss of their easy friendship still hurt. One more hurt on top of many.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He started and then turned to find Arthur staring at him, and Merlin almost wept at the concern so poorly hidden. Almost.

“Nothing. Here’s your doublet.” A judicious piece of magic while concealed by the cover of the wardrobe had delivered the required garment, freshly laundered. 

Arthur accepted it with a quizzical look at its pristine state, almost raising a smile from Merlin as the gaze slid to the disordered depths of the wardrobe. Almost.

Instead he shrugged and moved to help Arthur dress, taking a moment to smooth the fabric across Arthur’s shoulders, reflecting that more muscle had been added between the endless training and his final journey into becoming a man full grown. The lump in his chest rose up and choked him for a moment.

As he pulled away, Arthur captured his wrists. “I know something’s wrong, Merlin.” His thumb stroked the inside of Merlin’s wrist, where the blood thrummed ever more hectic through his blood. “Can I do anything?”

Merlin blinked hard and then shook his head, pulling away gently. “Your father will be waiting.”

Arthur hesitated and the concern dissipated, and Merlin felt as if he’d failed somehow. Again. 

“Attend me,” Arthur ordered, and Merlin obeyed, trotting along behind Arthur as he covered the distance through the corridors in long, determined strides.

 

**

 

They entered Uther’s small council chamber to discover the same oddly dressed individual Merlin had seen earlier. Merlin saw Leon, along with Gaius and Geoffrey. The warning glance Gaius sent in Merlin’s direction had him slinking back into the shadows where his reactions would be hidden. From that one look, Merlin already knew he wouldn’t like what was to come.

“Arthur,” Merlin noticed the slightest twitch of Arthur’s frame and understood why as he heard the edge in Uther’s voice. 

Across the room, Gaius and Geoffrey shared a swift look. Merlin edged even further back.

“Arthur this man comes with grievous news. “ Uther gestured at the stranger in their midst, who took it as his cue to speak.

“My name is Bedwyr. As I travelled in the far north of this land I heard a tale, a tale I first discounted for its madness. Until I witnessed it for myself and knew it for truth.”

His voice rose and fell with an odd cadence, but everyone was listening closely and no one missed a word.

“I saw dragons.”

Merlin couldn’t help his shattered, shocked breath and saw Arthur half-turn as if he’d heard it.

“I destroyed the dragons,” Uther said. “My own son killed the last of the great beasts only weeks ago.”

“Aye, Sire, I heard that said and it’s the reason I travelled here. To tell you the beasts still exist.”

Uther’s eyes glittered in the candlelight. “Do you hear this, Arthur? Do you know what this means?”

“Sire?” Arthur’s voice remained level, careful.

“The attack by the great dragon is a ruse, a diversion to enable them to capture and kidnap Morgana. Whoever controls these dragons has her. We must march for the north at once.”

Merlin felt his jaw drop open and he met Gaius’ eyes across the room, just as Gauis stepped forward and bowed.

Sire, if I may offer council?”

Uther paused before he offered a gracious nod.

“In this instance, a more stealthy approach may be profitable. We need to find out where the Lady Morgana is being held, and to determine the size and scale of the threat we face. I would suggest sending a small party – as small as possible – to reconnoitre and collect information. “

Arthur spoke. “That sounds like a sensible option, Sire, do you think so? It means we’ll have time to build our strength and draw together supplies to deal with whatever is found.”

Uther calmed at the sound of Arthur’s voice. “Indeed, Arthur. You will ride for the north at once. Take only your servant and find out what you can.”

Arthur bowed. “I will, Sire.” He turned and searched out Merlin with his gaze, and Merlin, with a swift look in Gaius’ direction and a bow of his own, turned and raced after Arthur.

Merlin managed to hold his tongue until they reached the relative security of Arthur’s chambers.

“Arthur, you can’t do this. You know this is madness.”

His words were cut off as Arthur spun around and in a split second Merlin found himself pressed against the door, Arthur’s forearm pressed against his throat. Arthur’s eyes were wild.

“You will hold your tongue,” he said. “I will follow my King’s command.” He seemed to realise the position they were in and backed away, holding his hands up in something that might have been an apology.

“Morgana has not been abducted by dragons.”

“And how would you know what happened?” Arthur asked. There was a short pause. “It doesn’t matter, Merlin. My King has spoken and I must obey.” He rubbed a hand through his hair before he attempted to undo the fastenings of his tunic.

Merlin watched him struggle for a moment before he stepped forward and brushed Arthur’s hands aside with an irritated huff of breath. Once Arthur had shrugged off the jacket he retreated to sit at the table and rest his head in his hands.

“When will we leave?” Merlin asked.

“I’ll leave tomorrow. I can travel as a merchant –“

“No you can’t.”

Arthur’s head snapped up and he stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“No-one would ever take you for a merchant. You’d be better going as an itinerant knight. That would explain why you carry a sword and have a servant.”

“I can’t ask you to do this, Merlin.”

For a brief moment Merlin wanted to tell him, to say that dragons were his business and his concern. Instead, he shrugged. “When did you ever ask me?” He wondered if it sounded as bleak to Arthur as it did to him. “I’ll go and make the arrangements.”

Arthur nodded, not even attempting to argue further. “I’ll go and talk further with Bedwyr, to get as much information from him as I can.” He stood and pulled out his long brown coat, shrugging into it. As he passed Merlin he rested a hand ever so briefly against a shoulder and as he drew away, the back of his hand dusted across Merlin’s cheek.

As the door closed behind Arthur, Merlin pressed his hand to the spot Arthur had touched, as if he could capture the sensation and keep it forever. Resolutely, he fought down the choking lump of grief once more. Arthur wouldn’t be so kind if he knew what Merlin had done. Taking a deep breath, he looked out at the encroaching night and set off to start his own preparations.

 

**

 

Arthur walked through the halls, hardly noticing his progress as he mulled over the seemingly ever-present and underlying concern about his manservant. It didn’t seem to matter how he approached Merlin, or what he said, he seemed unable to break through the miasma of grief that was so obviously weighing him down. Without knowing what was the root of Merlin’s troubles, Arthur had no way of helping him. For a moment, he wondered why he was so concerned about a servant, before accepting that Merlin was so much more than that . He frowned, chasing down the thought, worrying at it, wondering what it really meant.

He swept around a corner, still lost in thought and collided with a figure hurrying in the opposite direction. There was a moment of confusion, when Arthur found himself deluged in soft material and clutching onto the other person, trying to stop them both tumbling to stone floor. Stumbling, he lurched against the wall and used it to steady himself, and in turn managing to steady his unwitting assailant. 

When he pulled an offending piece of linen from his face, he was face to face with a blushing Gwen. He was lost for words, staring at her and almost shocked once more by her beauty.

“My apologies, Guinevere,” he managed to find his voice. “ I wasn’t looking where I was going.” 

She was alternating between gathering up the tumbled laundry, and stopping to cast shy, laughing glances at him.

“Here, let me help,” Arthur said, and bent forward to retrieve a fallen garment.

It was sheer bad fortune that she had leaned over at the same moment and an audible crack followed as their foreheads met. Gwen brought her hand to her head, reeling backwards and dropping the basket, and the contents, so recently recovered, ended up on the floor once more.

They stared at one another for a moment, before Gwen cracked, all shyness gone as she slumped against the wall and giggled. Arthur felt his spirits lifting and he knew his smile was unforced and fond. He took a step forward and lifted a hand to gently touch her forehead.

“I hope I didn’t hurt you?”

Her eyes were warm. “No damage done – and at least the laundry hadn’t been cleaned yet.” She laughed again, and then turned her head at the sound of footsteps approaching, her expression morphing into one Arthur couldn’t read. For a moment, he thought she looked sad.

It was enough to raise Arthur’s eyebrows, but before he had a chance to ask, one of his knights rounded the corner at some speed. Arthur tried to shout a warning but it was too late. The figure tripped over a doublet, fell forward onto Gwen, grabbing at anything to try and abort the fall. Unfortunately, he took a firm hold on Arthur’s cape, pulling him off-balance, and down they went in a tangle of limbs.

As the world stilled and settled, Arthur became aware that the worst of the cursing was emanating from Gwen, who was trapped under two hefty specimens of manhood, both of whom were wearing voluminous capes and chain mail. Carefully, he rolled to the side and managed to get to his knees, staring down at the new arrival.

Leon.

With a wince and a thought to the new bruises he’d just collected, Arthur got himself to his feet. Leon, befuddled and still tangled in the red of his cloak, was already stammering out apologies. Arthur offered him a hand up and then they both turned to Gwen.

The tableau was interrupted by a discreet cough, and Arthur closed his eyes at the thought someone else had witnessed this particular debacle. He turned to discover Merlin standing with his hands on his hips and while his features were solemn, his eyes danced with mirth. Arthur lost his embarrassment in an instant and smiled at him, pleased to see this glimpse of the Merlin he knew. The moment stretched and it was only Leon clearing his throat rather noisily that broke the silence. Arthur turned to find both Leon and Gwen watching him, and he wondered what had caused the considering looks they were bestowing on him.

Slightly embarrassed, without quite knowing why, and with an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, Arthur took his leave, aware – so very aware – of Merlin walking so close to him. It didn’t occur to him to wonder why all his thoughts were centred on Merlin and not on the woman he believed he loved.

Merlin jostled his shoulder as they reached the room set aside for their guest, catching his attention.

“I’ve got some errands to run for Gaius,” Merlin said and Arthur noticed the brief moment of normality had gone and Merlin’s features were pinched and while once more. 

Merlin was gone before Arthur could object, leaving him strangely bereft and slightly confused – Merlin didn’t usually explain his actions. Arthur frowned and then sighed, pushing his concerns away to concentrate on the task at hand.

 

**

 

Merlin slipped through the lower gate and sped down the track, slowing only when he left the road and had to pick his way over more uneven ground. Eventually he made it to the clearing and threw his head back to call out to the skies, unaware of the raw pain colouring his voice and deepening it to husky command.

Moments later and he could hear the characteristic sound of Kilgharrah’s wings as he approached. Merlin waited until he’d settled, flicking the great wings back to rest against his sides and lowering his head, the golden eyes huge and bright in the darkness. A creature of wonder and magic, indeed.

“You told me you were the last of your kind.” Merlin accused.

“And so I am.”

“There are dragons in the north – aren’t there?”

“There are,” Kilgharrah’s voice remained calm although there was an edge to it. 

A loaded silence followed. Merlin was determined that he wouldn’t demand, he wouldn’t use his power as a Dragonlord to enforce compliance.

“I am the last of the great dragons, the last of those born from magic. Did you never wonder why the Dragonlords had the power they did? It was because they crafted the dragons. Using magic, they brought traits of the wyverns and the north dragons together and created us to serve them.”

“Uther has learned of the dragons in the north. He’s convinced they have Morgana and wants to hunt them down. Be still.” Merlin held a hand up, cautioning the dragon as Kilgharrah reared up as if about to launch himself towards Camelot.

“Arthur and I are travelling there to gather information. I give you my word, Kilgharrah, I will protect them.”

“The prince may discover your secret if you do.” Kilgharrah had settled again, watching Merlin through ancient, shielded eyes.

“Perhaps. Perhaps it’s time he knew.”

Kilgharrah pushed his snout forward. “You are troubled and unhappy, young Dragonlord.” He breathed out then, covering Merlin in a soft golden haze that left him feeling as if he could finally draw breath without it physically paining him.

“Thank you. Will you tell me more of the dragons and what I might find?”

They talked for hours, while Kilgharrah spoke of the many types of dragons, of scauldrons and Whispering Death, of the Skrill and the Deathly Nadder and many others, their traits and peculiarities as well as their fighting preferences and how to counter them. 

As he left, Merlin asked. “Could it be repeated? Could we create more great dragons?”

“Why would you want to do that?” Kilgharrah sounded as puzzled and lost as Merlin felt.

Daring to touch for once, Merlin reached out and placed a hand on Kilgharrah’s cheek. “I hate to think of you being the last of your kind,” he said, before he spun away and hastened back to the castle.

Behind him, there was a moment of silence followed by a rush of air as Kilgharrah took his leave.

**

Uther was on the steps as they set off in the cold light of the dawn. Bedwyr was to be their guide as far as the coast, where he told them they’d make faster time taking one of the coastal trading ships that plied their trade up and down the coast. Merlin hugged Gaius, whispering a reassurance that did nothing to ease the concern in Gaius’ face. There was a strained leave-taking between Arthur and Uther, too, and then they were on mounting up and on their way, trotting out of the gate and into the countryside beyond. 

 

**

 

There was the faintest crack, the sound of a careless foot treading on a twig. It was enough for Lancelot to pay closer attention to the forest around him. There were birds singing, though off to the side opposite the original sound the birds were taking to the air in alarm, and in front of him a branch moved although the day was still.

Lancelot continued in his path, but loosed his sword from its scabbard and moved to the side of the path, closer to cover of the trees.

Too late, it seemed, as a giant of a man stepped out before him, blocking his way, and when Lancelot spun around, there were two more. These were smaller, but were brutish, unshaven fellows, grinning meanly at Lancelot. He manoeuvred himself until there was a tree at his back, but he kept his sword pointed at the forest floor.

Good morrow, fellow travellers,” he said. “Where are you heading?”

“Good morrow.” 

One the uncouth men parodied Lancelot’s greeting, while the other sniggered. The giant stood unmoving and silent, and was the dangerous element of the trio. Lancelot regarded him, assessing his strength, the competent fighter’s stance, the way he was holding a poor excuse for a sword. What concerned Lancelot most, however, was the dead expression in his eyes, an expression that suggested the man was hollow inside. Such overt evidence of loss resonated with him, and Lancelot knew his own features had softened in sympathy.

The man started, eyes flaring wide for a moment, before the hollow blankness was back, but he started shifting from foot to foot, his huge fist clenching and unclenching around the pommel of his sword.

The third of their number sauntered forward. “I reckon you could pay for our lodgings for a night or two, fine gentleman that you are.”

The threat was real, but still made Lancelot chuckle. “If I had the money to spare, I would gladly share, my friend, but all I have is my sword.” He looked the leader dead in the eye. “And that I will keep.”

The tableau was broken as the third of their party broke his silence.

“You would share with us? Why?” His voice was more cultured than his companions, Lancelot noted and there was a note of real enquiry in it, a puzzlement spreading across a handsome face. A young face.

Lancelot kept half an eye on the other two, but spared enough attention to reply. “It is a hard world we live in. We can choose to go our own way, to fight for our own survival whatever the cost, to do harm to others along the way. Or we can look out for one another, we can share and protect and encourage. I try to live a good life, friend, to do as little damage to others and to help where I can.

A flush of something that might have been shame darkened the man’s skin, and his tone was defensive as he retorted. “Yet not all will – some will kill without mercy, kill those who can’t protect themselves.”

“Come on, Percy,” the leader of the little group interjected. “Let’s deal with him and get out of here.”

The third man nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on Lancelot’s sword.

Lancelot ignored them, acknowledging the raw edge of a recent grief in the question he’d been asked, with a softening in his tone, his sympathy bleeding through.

“Then surely that is even more reason for those of us who are strong to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Those who prey on the less fortunate are less than beasts.”

“Hey,” 

Percy’s companions were bright enough to pick up the insult, as Lancelot had intended they should. Most of his attention remained on Percy. His brief consideration of the dynamics of this group told him that the other two had mistaken the numbness of a deep grief as a lack of intelligence. 

That wasn’t the case at all. 

Percy turned his head and looked at them. “I’ve been a fool,” he said, and a sigh seemed to be dredged from the very depths of his being. “And my family would be ashamed of me.” He hefted his sword and stepped forward, turning to stand at Lancelot’s side. “My name is Percival,” he said. Suddenly he smiled and leaned forward a little to say to his two former comrades. “Run.”

There was a pause, a moment when the forest itself seemed to hold its breath, the breeze dropping and all around them still.

They didn’t run. The two men exchanged a glance and then backed away slowly, their eyes fixed on Lancelot and Percival who now stood side by side, swords raised in identical poses, ready to defend themselves.

A stray beam of sunlight caught the sheen of Lancelot’s beautifully cared for sword, and the blade gleamed and sparkled for a moment.

Then, they turned and ran.

Lancelot and Percival remained at the ready until the crashing sounds of their retreat through the woods faded to nothing.

Lancelot broke the tableau, sheathing his sword and letting loose a quiet chuckle.

“Not the bravest bandits I’ve ever encountered.”

Percival hesitated and followed suit. “I think they’re possibly the two most stupid men I’ve ever met.” He flushed and bit his lip, staring at his boots.

“When you wish to, you can tell me how you came to fall in with them, but for now I am grateful you chose to stand with me today.”

Lancelot extended a hand and waited until Percival, with a shy smile, accepted it and tightened his own fingers in a grip that was oddly gentle and told Lancelot a great deal about his new friend. Despite their manner of meeting, he’d liked Percival at first sight.

“Where are you heading?” 

Lancelot considered Percival’s question. “I have no real destination in mind – the journey is important to me. I spoke true when I said I want to help those who are in need where I can.”

Percival stared at the ground. “I need to make amends. Could I travel with you and help?”

“It would be an honour.”

They shook hands again and Lancelot gathered his meagre belongings and as they began to walk along the forest trail, Lancelot spoke about Camelot and his friends there.

 

**

 

Morgana stared out at the landscape, lost in her thoughts. Morgause hesitated to disturb her, concerned still by her pallor. Damn that boy, she thought, not for the first time. How he’d worked out that Morgana was the source of the spell and how to break it had troubled her – at least until news came to them of the dragon’s attack on Camelot. She’d told Morgana, admitting she’d heard about the dragon but had dismissed it as a tale, not believing Uther would ever leave a magical creature alive for all this time.

Somehow, she reckoned Merlin must have received the knowledge on what to do from the beast. There were few who would have access to the old lore. How Merlin came to find the beast was another interesting puzzle, but given the boy’s propensity for turning up where he had no right to be, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising.

“How are you feeling, sister?” 

Morgana roused herself with obvious difficulty. “A little better each day.”

Morgause smiled. “Good. When you’re stronger we’ll begin to work on training your magic.”

“Will it help to stop me dreaming?”

Even with Morgause’s bracelet helping her, Morgana’s recovery was plagued with dreams. At the moment they were half-remembered, but were enough to shock her awake, crying and pleading against some ill-defined future nightmare.

Morgause wasn’t sure of the answer.

“It will help you to explore what the dreams are trying to foretell. That may help.” She tried to sound as positive as she good.

Morgana’s shoulders slumped and she turned back to her contemplation.

Standing by the door, unable to help, Morgause cursed Uther and Camelot once more. Uther’s hatred for magic and the stringent laws he’d instigated throughout the land had led to the loss of much of the knowledge that might have helped them both now. Her eyes narrowing, she considered the future, and plotted the downfall of the tyrant king. 

 

**

 

One of the few advantages of this mad adventure, Merlin thought, was the unlikely outcome of his first long voyage. He stared out at the ocean and tried not to feel too smug at the sounds of retching. Arthur, it transpired, was not a good sailor, and had turned green the moment the boat cleared the bay, and over the past two days he’d been unable to keep much down. 

Merlin, in contrast, was absolutely fine. There was a small, nasty part of himself he hated, that was glad Arthur was looking as miserable as Merlin still felt. A twinge of shame and an upsurge of sympathy overtook him and he glanced sideways, chewing on his lip. Arthur’s inability to retain even water was beginning to concern him. Decision made, he manoeuvred past crewmembers to the water barrel and picked up some of the coarse bread. Carefully, he drew his hand down Arthur’s back, whispering quietly and shutting his eyes to hide the tell-tale gold.

The final few days of the voyage were much better as Merlin’s magic kept Arthur well and in turn he threw himself into the work of the ship. Merlin was secretly proud, amazed and impressed as Arthur demonstrated an insatiable appetite for learning how the ship worked. By the last day, he was taking his turn working the ropes and sails. By this time, Merlin was less impressed as where Arthur worked, he expected Merlin to do the same.

They disembarked with good wishes on all side and Merlin knew even he had gained some colour, surprised when Arthur had expressed real satisfaction at that. The growing distance from Camelot seemed to be easing the strain they’d both been living under, but Merlin knew it hadn’t gone, and that what they would find when they travelled further north was likely to further widen the gulf between them, perhaps to a point where there would be no bridging of it.

Merlin took his own leave of the crew. He’d grown to like the rough men and their steady captain, even if they had little to say about dragons or the lands much further north than this harbour. It was as far as they went, the last place there was a decent enough population to make the journey worthwhile.

The captain was good enough to introduce them to his brother, who had married and settled there, and ran an inn where they could stay the night, as well as selling them a couple of the hardy ponies. Arthur looked askance at the beasts when he saw them and Merlin knew he was comparing them unfavourably with his own war horse. Hengroen would not have appreciated the terrain they would be traversing, and the ponies were bred for this landscape. The innkeeper assured Arthur they would easily carry a man for a full day, but not to expect great speed.

The next morning, after a night in an inn that was comfortable, though the atmosphere between Arthur and Merlin was not, they packed their gear and with Bedwyr leading as he would travel with them for the next few days, and Merlin leading a pack pony, they headed north.


	2. Chapter 2

Laughing, Hiccup whooped in joy as Toothless spun through the air, dodging around the others and speeding out across the ocean. Toothless dived until he was skimming the top of the water, occasionally flicking the spray over Hiccup.

“Hey, stop that.” Hiccup couldn’t hide his laughter, though and Toothless responded with another splash of seawater. 

After a few moments they settled into a steady flight, Toothless scenting the air and Hiccup happy just to be for the moment. He’d left that morning ostensibly to patrol the nearby islands and further coastline, but had been driven by a need for some solitude. Astrid had looked sharply at him and had offered a caustic comment about slacking off, but when he’d finished the early meeting of the council and went outside, Toothless was ready for him and there was a pack containing a hearty lunch. His thoughts turned, as they often did, to the Great Dragon they had sighted on their day trip some months before. If he was honest, his trips these days tended to head in the direction the dragon had taken, wondering if he would ever meet it. What would his father have made of that, he wondered.

He smiled softly and stifled the pang of sorrow. In the time since the terrible encounter that had led to his father’s death, Hiccup had grown and broadened out. He was still distinctly on the small and slender scale when considered next to most of his brethren but he was acknowledged as their leader, most of the tribe depending upon him for his ability to think, rather than fight. There were other advantages to his life – getting to know his mother, for one, and Astrid finally deciding she would wed him for another. Still, though, there were times when the weight of responsibility seemed too much, when he’d look around for his father to take the lead, and feel a fresh sting of grief at his absence.

They flew on, skimming across the water, indulging in some acrobatics just for the fun of it until suddenly Toothless tensed under him, turning his head towards the mainland and sniffing. Like an arrow from a bow, he was off and the wind buffeted Hiccup as their speed increased.

“Toothless? Toothless! Oh, not this again.” Knowing he might as well save his breath, Hiccup hunkered down and held on grimly for the ride, wondering what Toothless had sensed. Please gods, not another dragon that might hold him in thrall.

“Woah,” Hiccup wasn’t sure what he expected when Toothless finally dropped into a forest clearing that was just a little on the small side. It didn’t help that he was also faced with a mail-clad man, currently squashed against a tree and brandishing an exceptionally sharp-looking sword; a sword that didn’t have much manoeuvring room in the confined space.

He felt Toothless gather in a breath.

“No,” he said, putting as much firmness in his tone as he could. Toothless cocked his head and Hiccup caught the considering look in one yellow eye, before it narrowed. Hiccup was just about to shout a warning when the other man, unarmed and dressed in the manner of a servant, stepped forwards, to his companion’s obvious alarm.

“Merlin! Get back!”

Merlin, Hiccup assumed, ignored the warning and approached with his hand outstretched until he could lay the palm of his hand against Toothless’ muzzle.

“Look at you,” Hiccup heard Merlin murmur. “Aren’t you beautiful.”

“Merlin,” It was a high-pitched yelp of disbelief and concern.

Hiccup grinned at Merlin, who seemed oblivious, and at Toothless, who was leaning forward for more petting. Merlin was chuckling, talking away as if Toothless was some long-lost friend, and now he was scratching at Toothless’ chin.

“Oh, no, wait, stop, let me –“ Hiccup just managed to remove his legs from the harness when Merlin caught that one spot. With a happy exhalation, Toothless was suddenly a boneless heap and Hiccup lost his balance, tumbling onto the forest floor.

“Ow,” he said, gazing up at the trees for a moment before moving carefully.

The man with the sword was staring, alternating between gaping at Hiccup and at Merlin, who had hunkered down and was still talking nonsense to a dragon. At least the sword was not actually being waved at them in a threatening manner for the moment, so Hiccup took that as a win.

“Um, hi?” he offered.

Wide blue eyes turned to meet his, the man’s jaw was working and Hiccup wasn’t sure he was facing amusement, shock or anger.

Or all three.

“Merlin!”

Yes, all three.

Still wary of the unsheathed sword, Hiccup got to his feet and dusted himself down. He thumped his fist into Toothless’ smooth black hide and the dragon spared him a brief, unimpressed glance.

There might have been a hint of apology in it, but somehow Hiccup doubted it.

“Arthur, look. He likes me.”

“I can see that.”

There was something in Arthur’s tone that finally seemed to permeate Merlin’s absorption with Toothless and Hiccup watched as he turned to face Arthur. Hiccup never pretended to be particularly sensitive or perceptive, but even he could sense the undercurrents. Toothless shifted uneasily beside him.

“So,” Hiccup said, to break the sudden tension. “I’m Hiccup and this great lump is Toothless – and I’m guessing you’re Merlin and Arthur?”

Arthur’s attention returned to him, via a rather jaundiced look at Merlin, but at least he finally sheathed the sword. It didn’t make him any less intimidating. On the other hand, Toothless was now snuffling happily at Merlin’s hair, which certainly made Merlin the more approachable of the two.

“That’s right,” Arthur answered. “I’m a travelling knight looking for work. Merlin is my servant.”

“Uh-huh,” Hiccup looked at them. Really? Did Arthur think they were so cut off up in the Northern lands that they wouldn’t recognise a spy? Hiccup knew he had the advantage over many of his compatriots, who were content to stay at home with their dragons and play games they tried to pass off as training. Hiccup liked to cross the sea with Toothless, catching the surf, riding and gliding the air currents along steep craggy coasts. He liked to meet people from different lands, travellers, merchants, sea captains, and all of them provided information and tales from far-off places.

Hiccup recalled the tales his mother had told after their encounter, of dragons in the south, great beasts born of magic the likes of which he’d never seen and unknown amongst his own people, unless the strange connection he had with Toothless was something of that ilk. He’d heard, too, of the War King who’d turned against the dragons and slaughtered them all. Before they’d forged their own new relationship with dragonkind in the north, Hiccup’s father had spoken of Uther Pendragon with approval; the man who’d rid his kingdom of such a scourge. 

Hiccup had heard other rumours, though he’d hardly taken any notice until his own eyes had provided him with evidence to support their stories. Men who’d sworn they’d seen one of the Great Dragons flying high above them as they travelled across the sea. Now he looked at Arthur and Merlin and wondered what these men from the south were really here for. There was no hiding the quality of everything Arthur was wearing, or the weaponry he carried, or the kit scattered around the campsite. It was all too clear that being surrounded by such wealth was not unusual for either of them.

His eyes widened as he made a connection. Uther’s son was called Arthur. 

Oh dear. 

When he glanced over at Arthur’s servant, it was to find Merlin watching him, and there was something in his eyes that worried Hiccup even more than the more obvious aggression Arthur had shown.

Toothless reared up on his haunches and sniffed the air.

“So,” said Arthur, with one wary eye on Toothless. “You have more dragons?”

“Oh hundreds,” Hiccup fought a grin as he saw the horror flash across Arthur’s expression. “Why don’t you come and meet some of them? Ever fly on a dragon?”

“Arthur, perhaps we shouldn’t –“ Merlin was biting his lip.

“Nonsense, Merlin, I want to see where dragons live.” It sounded cheerful enough, but Merlin wasn’t happy and Arthur’s eyes were narrowed and his expression shuttered.

For some reason Merlin didn’t want Arthur to know exactly where dragons came from.

A puzzle. Hiccup liked unravelling puzzles.

At that point, Toothless leaned forward again and stared into Merlin’s face. Merlin sighed and shrugged. Toothless used an ear to slap him across the face in a friendly fashion and Merlin responded by tugging it gently before turning a rueful smile on Hiccup.

Arthur was glowering at Merlin.

Getting the three of them and their belongings onto a fidgety Toothless was quite a logistical task and Hiccup, watching both his new acquaintances closely, marvelled at the ease Merlin displayed and the way Toothless seemed almost to defer to him in a way he’d never done even to Hiccup.

Hiccup shelved that to think on later and rearranged the harness to secure them as much as possible, and knew he’d have to put his trust in his occasionally capricious dragon. He was fairly sure Toothless wouldn’t let Merlin fall, but all bets were off where Arthur was concerned.

“Is it safe?” Arthur was obviously experiencing the same doubts.

“Oh, yes,” said Hiccup, and wished it didn’t sound quite so much like a question. “At least,” he continued with more honesty than tact, “he might drop you but he’ll catch you before you hit the ground – or the sea. I’m pretty sure of that.” It might have been more reassuring, he considered, if he hadn’t put in the waggling hand motion.

Hiccup had to acknowledge Arthur’s courage as he cast one more suspicious look at Toothless – which was returned in kind – and clambered up. Merlin seemed to be perfectly at ease and settled himself with an absent pat to Toothless’ hide and missed the part exasperated, part fond, part – well, Hiccup wasn’t too sure what emotion Arthur was expressing there – look at him.

When they were all secured as well as he could manage, Toothless heaved himself into the air with an exaggerated huff and set off at a speed that surprised even Hiccup, garnering a hastily suppressed gasp from Arthur and a laugh from Merlin.

Toothless was showing off, he realised. After a few moments, he settled into a smooth glide through the air and Hiccup offered a grateful pat for the even, steady flight. Arthur’s grip on him eased and when Hiccup looked over his shoulder it was to see a white-faced Arthur, holding onto the straps and staring at the ground below, while Merlin wasn’t holding on at all, sitting confidently and grinning from ear to ear.

Merlin looked as if he’d been born to ride a dragon. Hiccup reviewed the whole of their admittedly short acquaintance and found himself reaching a conclusion that seemed fantastical. Since the days of his tribe seeking to exterminate the dragons, they had tried to learn about them. Now that they’d found other tribes and other dragon enclaves, Hiccup had taken to finding out more and had recently begun asking about the great dragons. Some people he’d met had offered the information that they were born from magic, and a race of men had been created with them: men who could command the dragons.

For one of the few times in his life, Hiccup really wanted to be wrong.

 

**

 

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected, but the green sward on top of vast cliffs was a surprise. As they came closer he could pick out the cluster of dwellings that made up a village, though he was puzzled by some of the other constructs he could see. Colourful birds darted around and it was only when they got closer still that –

He drew in a deep, startled breath.

Dragons.

The place was absolutely teeming with dragons; all shapes, sizes and colours. In the name of the Gods, that one even had two heads. People were perched on top of some of them, while others flitted around, landing precariously on thatched roofs, clustering together on rocky outcrops, or curled asleep in a field surrounded by unconcerned sheep.

Judging by the lack of reaction from those he could see, this was normal. Arthur thought of his father’s response to such knowledge and he shivered.

 

**

 

Merlin thought ruefully that Arthur could posit his assertion of being an itinerant knight as much as he liked, but Merlin hadn’t missed Hiccup’s assessing, comprehensive glance when they met. For all his casual openness and welcoming attitude, Merlin recognised the bright intelligence. Hiccup was clever and it would not be wise to underestimate him.

Arthur had slipped, somewhat inelegantly down from Toothless, and Merlin could feel the dragon’s amusement, dusted himself down and surveyed the gaping crowd that had gathered with the air of a man who is used to being both the centre of attention and obeyed.

Merlin watched, amused, irritated, fond, concerned, afraid; a mix of emotions leaving him conflicted as they swirled through him. Arthur glanced around at the curious crowd and his question had the distinct hint of being an order.

“I would like to speak to the leader of your tribe.”

There was an awkward silence for a moment before, almost as one, they all turned their heads and stared at –

Merlin followed their look and was confronted by a discomfited and slightly bashful Hiccup.

Of course.

Arthur was trying not to show his shock but Merlin knew him too well and witnessed his rapid assessment of the people surrounding them, battle-scarred and hardened and not just the men, but the women, too. Merlin just managed to control his mouth as Arthur’s attention switched to the fresh-faced, guileless, boyishness of Hiccup. Arthur’s glance flicked down to the missing leg and then back to Hiccup’s face, re-evaluating him before dipping his head in acknowledgement.

“Perhaps we could speak in private.”

Hiccup grimaced. “Later,” he said and there was a touch of steel in his voice now. “First, we welcome you as our honoured guests.” He paused and then raised his chin to meet Arthur’s eyes directly. “In the spirit of friendship, perhaps you would give us your name?” There was another pause before he added. “Your real name.”

Arthur flushed and his hand came to rest on the pommel of his sword. Hiccup maintained the eye contact as many in the crowd around them exchanged glances and raised eyebrows.

Most of them had the most amazing eyebrows, Merlin thought. A tremor passed through his body as the mob closed together and he could see some muttered conversations taking place. He started as something snuffled close to his ear and he turned his head slightly to discover a two-headed dragon. When it realised he’d noticed it, it butted him in what Merlin hoped was an affectionate manner, and then rested one head on each of his shoulders. Gods they were heavy.

Arthur had many talents, but subterfuge wasn’t one of them and Merlin had always admired him for his honesty and directness. His dislike of lying was one of the reasons he was so bad at it, thought Merlin and was sad for a moment that it was something he himself had become so good at it. Before he’d arrived in Camelot, Merlin hadn’t been much of a one for lying either. Now his life was one long lie and the grief and guilt he felt at that was just one thing among many. Both dragon heads snuggled in closer to his neck, in what Merlin realised was an attempt at comfort and as he glanced around, he noticed that all the dragons present were looking at him.

Oh.

There was a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach as he realised some of his tangled secrets were likely to unravel sooner rather than later.

Merlin took comfort in the fact that most of the actual people seemed to be concentrating on Arthur, who was staring back at them in his own particularly pugnacious manner.

“I am Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot.” He tilted his chin up and Merlin’s heart missed a beat at the proud, kingly stance.

“We welcome you with friendship, Arthur Pendragon,” Hiccup responded and then hesitated, as if he’d reached the limits of any courtly understanding. “Let’s have a feast – and drink - and some games.”

The rest of the populace let out a cheer at this and began to disperse quite happily. Arthur turned to talk to Merlin and stilled, his hand creeping once more towards his sword.

Merlin would have shrugged at him, if he’d been able, but he managed a smile instead. “It’s fine, Arthur, they’re perfectly friendly.” And he reached up with both hands to scratch a cheek on each head, before wriggling out from under their weight and approaching Arthur. He tried to pretend he couldn’t see Arthur’s dawning suspicion, the beginning of an understanding that his manservant was perhaps not all he seemed.

Arthur’s eyes scanned around. “They like you,” he said. “They all like you. Why is that, Merlin?” His eyes were watchful and a little hostile.

Merlin thought he felt his heart crack a little. “They recognise the type of person who tries to stop clotpoles killing unicorns, I expect,” he said, managing to force the words out and keep the tone light.

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned away to follow Hiccup, suspicion alleviated for the moment, it seemed.

 

**

 

Hiccup walked through the narrow gaps between two of the buildings, looking over to the green where there was a little cohort of dragons curled up around a seated figure. He snorted and then stumbled a little as a hand thumped into his back.

“They’re trouble, you know.” 

He turned his head to grin at Astrid as she fell into step beside him, and shrugged.

“Interesting, though.”

She rolled her eyes in a manner that obscurely reminded him of Arthur for a moment. “It’s been quiet around here lately – shouldn’t be surprised that you’d go looking for something interesting.”

“Don’t you want to learn about the Great Dragons?”

 

**

 

There was no faulting the hospitality offered to them, thought Arthur as they were plied with good roast meat and vegetables, offered comfortable accommodations and chatted freely with the inhabitants of the small, tightly knit community. After a few hours he even managed to stop flinching when one of the many dragons passed by, or stopped for a look at the visitors. They seemed endlessly curious and friendly and seemed to have little regard for people or property, disporting themselves in a manner that suggested they were used to being accepted and tolerated. The dragons seemed especially interested in Merlin and Arthur tried to tamp down on the growing suspicion. If for one moment he started to think about what it might mean, then he was afraid of the conclusion, the understanding that was simmering on the edge of his consciousness.

After they’d eaten and drunk their fill, the loud, laughing crowd headed for the strange seating area, and they were urged to join them, while Hiccup and Astrid headed for their dragons. Arthur tried not to notice Hiccup’s mother pull Merlin to the side and have an urgent conversation, but he couldn’t help wondering at the sudden stern expression that crossed Merlin’s face as he shook his head in what was clearly a definite denial. Merlin looked like quite a different person in that moment – a man full grown, and Arthur swallowed suddenly.

Despite himself, Arthur couldn’t help but be intrigued by the competition and amused by the totally unconcerned sheep as they were tossed through the air by the dragons. Wherever they ended up, they continued chewing and blinking out at the crowds of people. He ended up cheering with the crowds and ignored Merlin who was sitting beside him on the tiered seating, with a couple of the small dragons curled in his lap. It was only when the game was over and he had attention to spare that he realised one little head was resting on his thigh and somehow, unaccountably, his very own hand was gently scratching behind an ear.

He glanced up then and surprised a soft fondness in Merlin’s face. Arthur coughed and the dragon woke up with a squeak, shook itself and with what Arthur fancied was a reproachful glance for Arthur, flitted off towards the dragons that had made up the opposing teams.

 

**

 

It was the next day before Hiccup entertained any notion of a formal meeting with Arthur, and he experienced a moment’s trepidation as he stepped into the circular structure with Merlin a silent presence at this back. Hiccup rose from his seat at the table and welcomed them in the same open, friendly manner that seemed to be his natural character. There was a mix of men and women, which after only a day no longer surprised Arthur, having noticed that there seemed little distinction in who did what. Women here could just as easily be warriors or smiths – and he thought of Gwen for a moment - as cooks or laundresses. In fact, he’d even seen a number of the men with fat, healthy babies strapped to either back or chest as they went about their own business. Merlin had smiled a little at that, the most positive reaction Arthur had seen from him that morning.

Hiccup opened the proceedings. “Welcome to our home, Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot. What brings you to the north?” His eyes were watchful, and his expression thoughtful.

“Some months ago, the king’s ward, the Lady Morgana, was taken from us, kidnapped. Shortly after that, Camelot was attacked.” He paused as he considered them, wondering about the reaction his next words would bring. “Camelot was attacked by a dragon.”

Merlin shifted behind him and when he spared a glance, Arthur was shocked by the bleak downturn of his mouth, the frown that hinted at a misery Arthur could only shy away from, because he was afraid of its root, afraid to ask questions he would not like answered.

There was silence for a moment before Hiccup stated. “The attack was not by one of our dragons.”

Arthur inclined his head in acknowledgement. That much he could accept already. “My father believed the attack was planned to take our attention from the kidnap of Lady Morgana and when we were told of the dragons in the north, he insisted I investigate.

“You are free to look wherever you will. We have no knowledge of the Lady Morgana, but we are willing to help you search for her.”

“Thank you,” Arthur hesitated. “I will return to my father and inform him of your offer.” He almost felt Merlin’s reaction, hearing him shift from foot to foot, and he cast a swift warning look in his direction.

Hiccup was regarding him with that open, friendly expression. “We have heard of Uther Pendragon and his killing of the great dragons. Do we have your word, Arthur Pendragon, that we will be safe from him?”

Arthur hesitated, but his honour was too strong. “It is for the King to decree what will happen next. I will give you my word that I will tell him the dragons in the north are not responsible for the Lady Morgana’s disappearance and would offer their help in searching for her. But I cannot guarantee what his reaction will be.”

But he could guess, and saw from the twist of Hiccup’s mouth, and the muttering amongst the others ranged around the table, that they had heard enough of Uther to draw their own conclusions.

It was not the first time he’d felt shame when considering his father’s actions, but it was the first time he felt that he was compromising his own honour. 

“We will have to discuss this Prince Arthur. Please be welcome amongst us and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

It was a stalling tactic, Arthur recognised and knew that while these people wished him no ill, letting him go with this knowledge was dangerous for them. There was nothing he could say for the moment, however and instead he bowed and withdrew.

 

**

 

Merlin watched as Arthur stalked away from him, his own attention drawn from him for a moment by the sight of a dragon in the sky. The outline was familiar enough and he drew in a deep breath. That was all he needed

Merlin found Arthur at the top of a small knoll overlooking the harbour. The wind was stirring and Merlin thought that Arthur’s hair was getting long as he watched him push it away from his face. When Arthur faced him, the bright blue of his eyes seemed darker and Merlin thought for a moment he was looking at a stranger.

“What are you going to do, Arthur?”

“I’m going to tell Uther that there are dragons in the north but they had nothing to do with Morgana’s disappearance.”

“You know he won’t accept that.”

“What else do you suggest I do, Merlin?”

Merlin winced at the raw note in Arthur’s voice, but all he could think of was that no more innocents would die – not if he could prevent it.

“You cannot do this, Arthur.”

“Cannot?”

In that moment, Merlin thought Arthur had never so resembled his father, mouth flattened into a thin, hard line that spoke little of compromise or good sense.

“Arthur,” he tried again.

“We will depart as soon as we can find a ship.”

“No.” 

Merlin wasn’t sure where it came from, the bleak denial all the more potent for the statement of one single syllable. There was nothing there to misunderstand, there was no way Arthur could possibly assign any other meaning. Merlin had decided and it seemed that, for the very first time, there would be no way to compromise.

Arthur stared at him as if he was seeing Merlin for the first time. Perhaps he was. Merlin had always been his servant, his friend, the one person Merlin knew Arthur trusted totally, always supporting Arthur even when they disagreed.

Not this time.

“If you tell Uther about this he will stop at nothing. He will insist on waging war on these people. They don’t even have magic, Arthur, and the dragons – all they want to do is eat and sleep and play. You cannot have any part of this.”

“You expect me to lie to the King.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Please, Arthur, surely you can see it’s all you can do?”

“Why do the dragons like you so much?” Arthur ignored the question to ask his own and it was delivered in a rush of breath, as if Arthur didn’t really want to know the answer.

Merlin closed his eyes for a moment. There was no way he could lie his way out of this, or distract Arthur in some way. Whatever Arthur decided to do with his knowledge of the dragons, Merlin was going to have to explain his own actions.

“Before we set off to find the Dragonlord, I was told –“ he had to pause a moment to let the grief flare and subside. It was too soon to be talking of this and remain calm and he heard his voice break.

Arthur made an aborted move towards him, and then drew back, drawing the folds of his cloak around him as the wind strengthened. He cut a stern figure, standing against the sky line with the wind trailing fingers through his hair until it fluttered around his head, beautiful, golden.

New pain suffused Merlin then as he acknowledged just how much more he’d now lost. Arthur looked remote, drawing away from Merlin in every possible way.

Somehow, Merlin managed to find the words. “I was told Balinor was my father.”

He let the wind fill the silence for a moment.

Arthur looked as though he’d been carved from stone and it was a while before he broke the silence that had fallen.

“When Balinor died, his power fell to you.”

Merlin nodded. For a moment he stared at the ground, the weight of the lies still within him and then he took a deep breath and looked up, raising his chin. He refused to be ashamed of his heritage, of his father. “I was born with magic. When I came to Camelot I discovered the dragon your father held captive beneath the castle. He told me we have a destiny you and I, and that I’d protect you from magical threats, and you’d be a great King, the greatest.

“So that’s why you stayed?”

For a moment Arthur’s expression shifted and he looked almost lost, as if it was this that hurt more than all the lies, the magic, everything. 

Merlin took a step towards him. “No,” he swallowed. He had to make Arthur understand. “I stayed because you’re a good man and I wanted to keep you safe. I stayed because you’re my friend and I care what happens to you.”

“Fine words from a sorcerer.”

“True words from a friend.”

“Friends don’t lie to one another. “

In that moment Merlin knew he had lost Arthur, that he wouldn’t be able to sway him from what he believed was his duty. He was set on a disastrous path.

“Arthur, I can’t let you do this.”

“Can’t?” The word was a sharp syllable and Merlin flinched at the ice it held. “How are you going to stop me? Will you bind me with your magic? Will you use it to stop me? Believe me, it is the only thing that will.”

Merlin ignored that. “We’re on an island. Once Hiccup knows your plans, he will hold you here until he can ensure his people’s safety.”

Arthur’s hand tightened on the pommel of his sword and Merlin stepped back. For the life of him, he couldn’t stop the way his hand shifted, ready to cast a defensive spell if needed, and he saw a new bleakness in Arthur’s eyes.

 

**

 

For Arthur, he was almost unmanned by the hurt and could only find recourse in anger and bitterness, because anything else would destroy him.

“You have betrayed me.”

“No! Never! In the name of all the Gods, Arthur, why can’t you see?” It seemed to come from the very depths of Merlin, an anguished cry but Arthur couldn’t give in, he couldn’t accept for one moment that the tenets by which he’d lived his life, the steady rock that was his father’s judgement, the fundamental knowledge that magic was evil, might all have been lies. 

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t admit to that and so he turned his pain and fury on Merlin, who had been his friend and was now an enemy.

The fire of his anger burned diamond bright within him, hardening his resolve and pushing away any doubt, leaving him full of cold, indomitable purpose. He stepped away from Merlin, gathering his dignity about him.

“I will not attempt to take you back to Camelot to stand trial for your crimes. I will leave on the morrow and take this news to my King. He will make the decision about what action to take. Now, get out of my sight.”

There was a moment when he almost quailed before the grief in Merlin’s face, when he almost doubted once more, before he reminded himself of Merlin’s years of lying and deceit. For whatever purpose the sorcerer might ultimately have had, he had saved Arthur’s life and for that, Arthur would not carry out the summary justice his father would have demanded.

Merlin took a deep breath and though his face was as white as chalk, he drew himself up, suddenly impossibly dignified.

“Everything I have done has been to serve you, to help you become a great king. I’ve failed in that. I can see now that you are too much in Uther’s shadow. So be it. Know this, Arthur Pendragon, son of a false and bitter king, I am no ordinary sorcerer. I am a warlock, and a dragonlord, with a lineage and power that more than matches the Pendragons. I will protect these people. I will protect the dragons.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away, steadily, his back ramrod straight and his head held high. But his fists were clenched at his sides.

Arthur watched him go, his heart so full of mixed emotions, his head muddled with new facts that shed a different light on many of his memories, and his eyes stinging in the wind. Amongst the emotions roiling through him, he was surprised to find a pride in Merlin, in his willingness to do what he knew to be right, whatever the cost to himself. There was a moment when he almost followed Merlin, almost sought understanding but he was jostled by a sailor running past. Arthur turned to watch him move nimbly up the narrow gangplank. When he looked in the direction Merlin had taken, there was no sign of him. Biting his lip, Arthur wavered until a shout from the deck roused him and without further thought, he ran onto the ship just a moment before the gangplank was pulled aboard and the ropes loosed.

Expression grim, he watched the land recede until they moved out of the circle of the bay, and then he was too busy throwing up to spare much time for anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

Hiccup was deep in his latest invention when Merlin burst in through the door, his hair wild and face red. It was the despair in his eyes, though, that really claimed Hiccup’s attention. Outside, Toothless was fidgeting, attempting to shoulder his way in beside them, his focus flicking between Hiccup and Merlin.

What’s wrong?”

Merlin swallowed before he spoke and his voice was husky. “Arthur’s gone.” 

Hiccup put down his pen.

“When?”

“I left him on the hillside near the docks. I think he left on one of the ships. How long does it take to get to land? He’ll be so sick.” 

Hiccup frowned as the words tumbled from Merlin, watching as he wrung his hands, His concern for Arthur’s wellbeing, despite the fact he may well betray them to his father, was telling.

“It’s fine, Merlin,” Hiccup sought to stop the stream of words.

“We need to stop him. Toothless – “

“No, we need to let him go.” Well that certainly shut Merlin up, as he gaped at Hiccup.

“What?”

Hiccup sighed, giving voice to the thoughts that had been circulating in his own mind. “We could never keep him here against his will. Don’t forget that we can defend ourselves against Uther.” 

Merlin shut his eyes for a moment, swallowing hard and looking outside at the sky. “It’s getting colder.”

“There will be snow before long,” Hiccup agreed, all too aware of where Merlin’s concerns lay.

“What will happen to him?”

“He’ll be fine, won’t he, Merlin, because you’ll make sure the dragons keep him safe.”

Merlin flushed.

“A couple of months ago, I saw a dragon in the sky, a huge beast I didn’t recognise, something different from anything I had ever seen.”

“You saw Kilgharrah?”

“Is that his name, Dragonlord?”

Hiccup was amazed at the change his question elicited. Hiccup wasn’t exactly the most physically robust of his tribe, and admittedly none of them were exactly tall, so Arthur had towered over them. He hadn’t realised, until this very moment, that Merlin was actually a little taller than Arthur. With his back straight, his head held high, and his shoulders relaxed, Merlin radiated sudden power.

For a moment, Hiccup was almost afraid of him.

Then, Merlin slumped down onto the hard bench and buried his head in his hands.

Outside, Toothless heaved a great sigh, and rested his head on his legs, eyes half-closed and fixed unswervingly on Merlin.

“I gather Arthur didn’t know?”

Merlin shook his head. “He was – “

“Perturbed? Afraid? Furious?” Hiccup filled a lengthening gap – he’d never been very good with silences in awkward conversations.

There was another long pause before, muffled, Merlin said. “Hurt. Betrayed. I don’t think it was the magic or the dragonlord thing that upset him – it was because I’d lied to him, because I’d never told him.”

“Well, that makes sense.” Astrid’s voice interrupted them as she slapped a flagon and three tankards onto the table between them, sitting down at Hiccup’s side.

“What?” they asked in unison.

She rolled her eyes at them. “Honestly, you don’t get it?”

Hiccup thought Merlin probably looked as confused as he did.

Astrid poured them all a healthy measure, and downed hers in a single long gulp. “Men in love are always useless,” she said, in what Hiccup initially took to be a non-sequitur until. – 

Oh

He shared a glance with Astrid and raised his eyebrows.

“Exactly. Men. Oblivious.” With a thump to Hiccup’s shoulder, she was up and away again, leaving Hiccup to deal with a red-faced and spluttering Merlin.

Gee, thanks for that one, Astrid.

The resulting silence could only ever be described as awkward.

Eventually, Merlin sighed, the sound seeming to come from the very depths of his being, and he rubbed his hands across his face. Grabbing the tankard, he downed the contents in one impressive gulp. Hiccup watched as he refilled it from the jug and the second followed the first.

“S’not fair,” Merlin muttered. “Din – did’t – didn’t want to fall in love with the stupid clotpole. Blond prat.” 

He stared morosely into the empty tankard. Surreptitiously, Hiccup edged the jug of ale further away, wincing as a long arm shot out, missed once and then seized it. Most of the ale made it in. 

“Such a clotpole.” Merlin sighed. “He hates me now.”

With horror, Hiccup saw the tears welling up, and hastily poured yet more drink.

Merlin stared at it, leaned forward to pick it up and continued downward until his face was resting on the tabletop. A moment later, he began to snore.

Quietly, Hiccup removed the drink, mopped up the spillage, and tossed a blanket over Merlin’s shoulders.

When he made it outside, Astrid was sitting on the ground leaning against Toothless. There was a moment where they looked eerily alike, both tipping their heads on one side in a mute enquiry.

Hiccup patted Toothless as he sat down, leaning into Astrid’s side.

“What are we going to do about the Prince?” Astrid asked.

“We let him go. We can defend ourselves if needs be, though -“ Hiccup paused.

“What are you plotting now?”

They looked up as his mother came into view and Hiccup grinned at her before he answered her question.

“Well, you know I love to travel,” said Hiccup. “How about heading south for a look?”

 

**

 

Lancelot and Percival paused at the top of the rise, taking a moment to survey the small village before them. In the days since their first inauspicious meeting they’d developed a mutual regard that was fast becoming a friendship. Lancelot was comfortable enough to tease Percival.

“Tell me you haven’t robbed anyone in this place and we can actually go to the tavern.”

Percival ducked his head for a moment, before elbowing Lancelot in the side and setting off down the slope.

Lancelot laughed and set off after him.

As they reached the door to the tavern, they had to stumble backwards as it burst outward, a flailing figure tumbling out and landing on the ground in front of them.

The man rolled onto his back and grinned up at them. “You look like friendly fellows,” he announced, and took the arm Percival offered. As he got to his feet he reached out and squeezed Percival’s arm muscles. “I like you. Now you,” he turned to face the barrel-chested man who had appeared at the doorway. “I don’t think much of. In fact, I think you’re a pig – you and your friends.”

Lancelot didn’t have time to express his surprise at the man’s cheek as there was suddenly a form bearing down on them all, swiftly followed by several of the man’s companions. Their new friend whooped with obvious glee and pitched towards them. Percival glanced at Lancelot, shrugged and then joined the fray. Lancelot sighed, ducked a stray punch, and knocked his assailant out with one blow.

Between the three of them, they made short work of their opponents, who staggered off after a few moments, with plenty of talk but little appetite for continuing the fight.

“Excellent.” With a grin the man turned towards them. “Name’s Gwaine – glad you could join the party. I could have taken them without your help, you know – but at least it means there’s more time for drinking.”

Percival looked him up and down. “They were about to hang you out to dry, little man.”

“That’s what you think – I had a plan. I was luring them into a false sense of security. I had it all under control. Now, how about a drink? I’ve worked up a terrible thirst.”

He stepped between the two of them and urged them towards the tavern, a hand on each back. Lancelot and Percival exchanged a look and a grin, and let themselves be pushed onward.

Perhaps it wasn’t too much of a surprise that when Lancelot and Percival left, Gwaine tagged along because, as he asserted, Percival needed livening up and Lancelot was too much of a goody two shoes to do it.

Lancelot smiled at the teasing and ignored the shrewd look in Gwaine’s eyes. He liked Gwaine already and could see there was more to him than the insouciant front he presented. 

 

**

 

Arthur knew he wasn’t at his best when he finally made it off the boat, but temper, disappointment, guilt and grief was enough to get him through the process of buying enough supplies to enable him to set off in the vague direction of the port they’d originally sailed into weeks before. Throughout his miserable days on the boat, he’d expected to see dragons in the sky, coming to take him back to captivity, but they never came. After a day or so, he might even have welcomed them. The inn owner he purchased everything from looked at him askance, pointing out the encroaching winter, the leaden, yellow cast to the sky. It wasn’t the best time to travel, he warned Arthur, while his wife looked on, a small, fair woman wrapped up in her shawls. Arthur thanked him, and continued gathering his belongings.

It was she who disappeared into the small inn, returning with a bag. He was about to shove everything in haphazardly when she took it from him without a word and with a few quick, practiced actions, she had it all tidily packed away.

She smiled at him then and he was struck by how unexpectedly beautiful she was, reminding him of Astrid, blond and fine-featured, though her hands were rough with toil.

He took the time to thank them, pressing more gold than he should into the innkeeper’s hand. Arthur saw the way she frowned at him.

“Keep it hidden,” she said, pointing at his purse, while her husband swiftly pocketed the coin. “Go in peace, Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur was some distance away before it dawned on him that he’d never introduced himself and he turned to look at the small group of buildings. The woman was still standing there, watching him and she raised a hand in farewell, or perhaps it was a blessing. He set his face against the wind and headed south.

 

**

 

He’d known before he set off that he was being foolish, and was letting his anger and pride get in the way of good sense. Arthur was a woodsman, and knew in his own land, he could survive at least long enough to reach habitation. This landscape, though, was less forgiving, and as night encroached – so early, so very early – he knew he was in serious trouble. The sun had long gone, lost to the lowering clouds and the first hint of snow in the air. Desperately, he cast around for fuel to burn, finding enough for a small fire. With the last of his energy, he used loose stone around him and a convenient hollow to build a small shelter. Once done, he set his fire, ate and drank sparingly from his supplies, wrapped his cloak around himself and settled in to brood.

There was a hiss as a small droplet of water melted into the fire. And then another, and another.

“Wonderful,” Arthur said aloud, his voice cutting through the deadly quiet and startling him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop thinking about Merlin’s face during their fight. Arthur knew he’d reacted badly, but wondered what else Merlin could have expected. To be lied to for so long was one thing, but to have said some of the things he did about love and destiny…

Arthur swallowed hard and did his best to ignore the prickling at the back of his eyes, sniffing hard. Of all the people in his life, he’d trusted Merlin the most, depended upon him, listened to him, had even gone against his father for him. It was a betrayal that ran deeper than he could have believed, and he wondered if he’d ever trust another person in his life.

Staring out onto a landscape that was becoming lighter by the moment, mainly because snow was now settling on cold, hard ground, he accepted that his life expectancy was decreasing by the second. His only chance was to stay awake through the night.

The illness from the sea crossing on top of a sleepless night, a long walk and his emotional upheaval was taking its toll. He could feel his eyes closing and lacked the energy to get up and walk around. With a quiet sigh, he wiped his face and pulled his cloak tighter around him, slumping against the bank.

He slept.

 

**

 

There was a moment on waking when Arthur was surprised he was still alive, swiftly overtaken by the recognition he wasn’t actually alone and whatever he was leaning against was softer and warmer than he would have expected. He shot up and what he’d thought was darkness with the slight glimmer of dawn was pulled aside. Arthur gaped as Toothless reared up onto his haunches and glowered at him. As he looked around he saw the world was carpeted in white. If it hadn’t been for Toothless, Arthur would have slept to his death. He shivered suddenly, not from cold.

“Merlin sent you, didn’t he?” Arthur asked, wondering at the warmth underlying the pain and misery he was still experiencing. “Blasted sorcerer.” 

Toothless leaned forward and stared.

“What?” Arthur said, knowing he was being petulant but unable to untangle the strange mix of emotions swirling through him.

With a strange gurgling sound, Toothless opened his mouth and a sizeable piece of fish shot out and landed on the ground.

Toothless stared at the fish and then stared at Arthur.

“Well, thank you,” Arthur said, perplexed and slightly nauseous. “I don’t have a fire. I can’t cook it.”

Toothless stared at the fish and stared at Arthur.

“You know, I think you understand a great deal more than you ever let on.”

Toothless looked from Arthur to the fish once more.

Arthur folded his arms and stared back.

Toothless narrowed his eyes.

Arthur narrowed his.

With an irritated huff, Toothless drew in a breath and bathed a handy rock in fire. Arthur managed not to flinch as the jet of fire passed close enough to make the hair on the back of his hand sizzle slightly.

In the next moment Toothless gathered himself and was airborne.

“Thank you,” Arthur called, his sense of fairness acknowledging that Toothless had quite possibly saved his life. Toothless didn’t pause, but his head dropped down so he was looking back at Arthur, and he grinned in a manner Arthur found slightly disconcerting, before he was gone with a speed that left Arthur breathless.

Grimacing at the slightly slimy feel, he grabbed the fish quickly and sliced it up, using the heated rock to cook it. He used a little of his bread to make a more substantial breakfast and with hot food inside him, set off on his travels with a better heart.

 

**

 

It didn’t seem to matter the manner of their parting, the angry recriminations and the betrayals felt on both sides, it appeared Merlin had every intention of ensuring Arthur survived. Arthur spent some time of each day thinking up new insults he could throw at him, occasionally castigating him for letting Arthur live to tell Uther what he’d learnt while knowing Uther would wage war on the dragons. He thought through much of the time since Merlin had come to Camelot, re-evaluating the many times they’d found themselves in trouble and started to make a tally of the occasions when Merlin must have used his magic to save them. To save him.

Merlin had kept his secrets, the weight of them nearly killing him. Arthur remembered the weeks before they’d left on this ill-advised journey, when he’d known something was badly wrong with Merlin but had been unable to break through to discover what it was. They’d pulled away from one another, Arthur trying to deal with an increasingly unbalanced King, while Merlin, Arthur now knew, was struggling with his own guilt.

As the days passed, the anger and betrayal were eaten up with concern and a certain gratitude. The only trouble was, Arthur didn’t know what to do now, torn between competing loyalties. This, he now understood only too clearly, was one of the many things Merlin had tried to protect him from.

Each night, he made his small camp and, depending upon the weather, he would find himself with a dragon or so for company and warmth. The second day the snow had melted and it became milder, and when he woke on the third morning, he’d found that several of the small dragons were curled around him, their warmth comforting. They were like puppies, he thought, fearless, happy, eager to please and with a touch of mischief that had him chuckling as they tumbled over one another to get to him once they realised he was awake. All except one had left him eventually and he’d noticed the packet of food they’d carried with them. When he opened it, he had to swallow hard, finding a number of his favourites, including some honey cake. In the weeks they’d spent with the Northmen, he’d never seen this particular sweet cake. Merlin must either have found someone to bake them, or baked them himself. It was another way of Merlin apologising and he wondered how he could forgive Arthur so quickly, in spite of the hurtful words and accusations Arthur had thrown at him so viciously.

That was Merlin, never one to hold a grudge and probably blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong between them. He swallowed hard and looked for distraction in the work of dismantling his small camp. The little dragon probably thought he was helping, getting mixed up in the bedroll while Arthur attempted to strap it up, and then getting tangled in his cape. Despite himself, Arthur chuckled, the rusty sound disturbing the silence. The dragon cocked his head at the sound and bounced excitedly over to him, nudging Arthur until he got the message and scratched its head. 

Oh, Merlin, he thought and was startled how fond the words sounded in his own head. Merlin. He swallowed the grief that followed hard on its heels and instead dragged the parchment that had covered the food towards him. He had no quill or ink, but a search around found a dark rock that would do and he scratched the words: I liked the honey cakes.

It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was the best he could offer for the moment, knowing his own character and recognising the still-lingering anger and betrayal.

He managed to secure the message around the dragon’s neck and with a bit of persuasion and more head scratches sent it off to find Merlin. He watched until it disappeared from view before he finished packing up and set his face resolutely to the south.

 

**

 

“You’re going to what?”

Hiccup grinned at the expression on Merlin’s face.

“We’re going to take the dragons to Camelot.”

“Why?”

“Uther needs to see that we can defend ourselves – and he needs to see we’re not a threat.”

“He’s not exactly rational where dragons and magic are concerned.” 

Hiccup grinned and shrugged. “He doesn’t have to be – all he needs to do is realise it’s much better to forget all about us.”

They were sitting on the bluff overlooking the sea, leaning against Toothless, who curled around them and protected them from the worst of the ever-present breeze. Hiccup glanced sideways at Merlin, at the worried frown and the way he eyes stared first at the wildness of the ocean and then off to the mainland, looking directly, and Hiccup had no doubt in his mind about this, exactly in the direction Prince Arthur was taking.

“We’re not going to war, Merlin. We’re not going to hurt anyone.”

Toothless rumbled and Hiccup punched him. “No Nightfury nonsense,” he warned.

Toothless complained again.

Merlin chuckled and then was still for a long moment. Hiccup stared at him warily, his attention caught by the quivering of Merlin’s mouth. He was startled when Merlin began to giggle. It went on, Merlin’s eyes streaming with his mirth and it was too infectious. In moments, Hiccup was laughing, too, though he had no idea what had set Merlin off.

Eventually, gasping and choking along the way, Merlin found his voice.

“I just pictured Uther’s face when all the dragons arrive.” 

They began laughing again.

 

**

 

Arthur saw few people in his travels, preferring not to draw attention to himself. The red cloak was bundled up and the nondescript blanket pressed into service instead. If he saw anyone, he avoided them and if there was any interaction with fellow travellers, he kept it to a minimum.

The worsening conditions made navigation difficult, and though he could use dawn and dusk to keep an eye on his direction, there was little sun to be seen during the day. In addition to the difficult terrain, it made the journey circuitous and difficult and he knew if it hadn’t been for Merlin and Hiccup sending the dragons, his life would have been in much more peril. The anger, stung pride and grief had kept him going through the first days, but the solitude and easy friendship offered by the dragons was giving him too much food for thought. If most of his thoughts were about Merlin, rather than the place of dragons in the world, then there was no one there to judge him for it, and if he had to wipe moisture from his face more than once, it was only the rain, or the fine mist that covered the land.

On the night he accepted that he’d lost his way and should have got to the coast long before now, he made his small camp, wrapped his cloak and blanket around him and settled in to brood. Merlin would have called it sulking. The thought of Merlin closed his throat once more and he squeezed his eyes shut. Between one thought and the next, he fell asleep.

During his travels he’d become accustomed to waking up to the company of dragons, but he was aware as he woke this time, that something was subtly different. There was much more bulk than he was expecting for a start, and he had the sense this was one dragon he’d not seen on his travels, but was still familiar.

Fury surged through him and the anger and betrayal aimed at Merlin was suddenly renewed. He was on his feet, sword drawn.

“You,” he said, and stepped back until he could see the whole beast.

It was bigger than most of the dragons he’d seen in the north, and while they always displayed a playful temperament, there was nothing of that in the look cast at him.

“Your sword can do me no harm, little prince,” it sounded bored and slightly amused.

“You killed my people,” Arthur accused, his voice tight with loathing.

“Your father killed mine.”

“They were innocent.”

“Yes, they were.”

Arthur let the ambiguity of that pass over him, nonplussed by a beast that seemed so unconcerned.

“Why are you here?” he asked instead.

“Merlin was concerned about you. He asked me to offer you help.”

“Help from you? I think I’d rather take my chances.”

The dragon shifted in what might have been a shrug. “That is your choice.”

Arthur almost expected him to leave then, but he remained, and Arthur was surprised that he could read the expression, and rather shocked to see the great beast appeared disconcerted.

“There is prophecy about the Once and Future King and the greatest Warlock the world has known. It says that you are two sides of a coin, that together you will build a golden age of Albion.”

The words appeared bizarre to Arthur, trying to marry the words with the reality of Merlin bumbling along with an armful of armour and griping at Arthur’s back. He swallowed the ever-present lump in his throat yet again.

“There was nothing in the prophecy,” the dragon continued, thoughtfully, “about you falling in love.”

Love

Love?

He drew in a breath to respond, to deny such a ridiculous assertion, but the dragon forestalled him.

“Are you a coward, Arthur Pendragon? Are you too afraid to face what you know in your heart to be true?”

Bizarrely, he thought of the two journeys he’d made by sea and the seasickness that had afflicted him. Somehow, he knew that Merlin must have helped him on their first voyage and acknowledged the care Merlin had shown. All he’d ever been taught about magic had about the evil it did, never about the good. He’d never known it could be used to heal. He should have done, he thought, he should have been able to reason that what can be used to harm, could also be used to help.

He sighed. “He lied to me.” That, he now acknowledged, was why he was so angry. In the end, it wasn’t about the magic at all.

“He had no choice. His destiny is to protect you and he follows that path willingly because of his love and his belief in your future as king. Had he told you the truth, there was no guarantee he would be safe. It was a risk he could not take, however much he wished to.”

“I would never hurt him. I could never hurt him.”

“He did not know that.”

Arthur didn’t respond. Instead, he packed up his belongings and began walking, though in what direction he could not have said. By the time he finally looked back, the dragon was gone, and Arthur was alone with his unhappy thoughts.

 

**

 

“Morgause, you’ve returned.” Morgana reached out to her sister, pulling her into an embrace before helping to divest her of cloak and armour. “Are you well?”

Morgana was more pleased than she could put into words at Morgause’s return. The castle keep had been a cold and lonely place without her. There were no servants here and Morgana had shifted for herself, but for the first time in her life she had spent a protracted period of time completely alone and it had unnerved her more than she liked to admit.

“I’m well, sister. It’s good to see you.”

Morgana moved to the fire and set food to heat, before bringing a jug of warmed cider to the table. Over the months of her recovery, Morgana had learned that she enjoyed preparing food, using her imagination and the ingredients at hand and turning them into new dishes. Along with learning about her magic, it was her greatest pleasure.

“I saw Cenred. He’s a pig of a man, but ambitious. He’ll help us. He wants Camelot for himself.”

“Where will that leave us?”

“Oh, I can handle Cenred, have no fear. We will need our spy on the inside though.”

“Spy? Who? Oh – “ It had taken Morgana a moment to follow Morgause. “I don’t want to go back there.”

Morgause reached over and gripped her hand. “I know, dearest, but it won’t be for long – not under Uther’s rule at least. Once we have control of Camelot we can bring magic back to the land and we’ll be safe. I promise.”

Morgana bit her lip, and then nodded. “As long as I know you’ll be close.”

“I promise. Now that I’ve found you, sister, I never want to lose you.”

Comforted, Morgana smiled at her and listened carefully as Morgause outlined her plans for the weeks ahead, and for the ultimate downfall of the House of Pendragon.

 

**

 

Hiccup looked around at the serried ranks of his dragon army. Well… perhaps that was just the slightest bit of an exaggeration. They weren’t exactly in ranks, or rows, or, if he was honest, in any kind of order whatsoever.

Merlin was standing to the side and Hiccup sidled across.

“Any chance you could get them to stay still, you being the Dragonlord and all?”

“I’m not convinced even that would help.”

“Oh, in the name of the Gods,” Astrid appeared beside them, sighed, and put her fingers in her mouth.

The piercing whistle cut through the air and even Hiccup, used to Astrid, winced at the volume. Merlin clapped his hands over his ears and stared in astonished awe at her. Hiccup couldn’t quite help the rush of pride and smiled as the dragons shuffled into something resembling lines – well at least they were quiet – mostly.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s what we’re doing. You’ve all got your groups and know the route you’re travelling. Fly at night and rest during the day, stick to the shore as much as possible, so the dragons can get fish – and don’t let them steal sheep. “ He stared hard at Tuffnut and Ruffnut, who plastered innocent looks on their faces. It didn’t work. “You all know where we’ll be meeting and when. From there, we’ll go into Camelot together. Be careful and don’t annoy the locals.” His final words were lost in the whooping from the humans and enthusiastic rumbles from the dragons. 

In moments, the serried ranks were in the sky and heading off towards the mainland. Hiccup laughed in delight at the sight, turning to grin at Astrid and his mother.

His attention was taken by Merlin, who gazed after the departing horde, or at least in that general direction. He seemed uneasy.

Toothless butted him, eager to be on the way.

“Do you want to travel with me?” Hiccup asked.

It took a moment for Merlin’s attention to come back to him. “I… I think I’ll stay here. I can call Kilgharrah and meet you there.”

Astrid joined them. “Something up?”

Merlin smiled at her, though his eyes were troubled. “I don’t know.”

“Well, anyway, we need to – you know – ow!“ He glared at Astrid, and rubbed his side.

She stepped forward, reaching up to hug Merlin. “We’ll see you soon.”

Hiccup watched, a little puzzled, and then shrugged. She’d explain it all to him later. He glanced up at the sky, seeing the tell-tale yellow tint that signalled the oncoming snow. It wouldn’t trouble them much, the dragons would protect them – but a man travelling alone… Perhaps he could understand the source of Merlin’s worry.

He had a task to perform, the safety of his people and the dragons was his first concern, and it was time to make sure of that.

“We’ll see you in Camelot.” He patted Merlin’s arm, then pulled on his jacket.

Time to fly.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur stared uneasily at the sky for a moment and then out at the bleak plain he was travelling across. The grey clouds had a yellowish tinge that he’d come to fear. Grimly, he set his face towards the only bit of shelter he could see, a lonely outcrop of rock. One or twice he’d found shelter in similar stone structures and hoped this time he would find a space to crawl into before the snow began to fall. As he travelled, as swiftly as he dared on the uneven ground, he gathered up anything that looked as if it might burn and tried not to hope that he would be visited by a dragon soon.

The distance was deceptive and the stones still seemed far too far away when the first lazy snowflakes began to drop around him, picking up into a swirling mass terrifyingly quickly. Arthur realised he’d been lucky as he walked blindly into stone some time later, but that was the last of his good fortune. The wind was blowing the storm into a blizzard and the rocks were just that, sticking out of the ground but were natural. There was no man-made hollow here to shelter in. Shivering, Arthur stumbled round to the leeward side and huddled down, drawing his wet cloak around him. There was no way he would be able to set or light a fire in this, he acknowledged and felt a moment’s shock when he realised finally that unless there was a miracle, he was going to die tonight.

This is where his pride had brought him. Now, in his final moments, he could admit the hurt that was the base of everything he was feeling. Merlin had come to mean more to him than anyone ever had in his life - even his father – and the secrets and lies that lay between them had cut him deep. Yet, what else could Merlin have done? Hurt gave way to sorrow, when Arthur considered his own actions over the years since they’d met, and accepted he’d seldom given Merlin a reason to trust him.

Struggling to his feet, Arthur turned his face to the north and cried out against the wind.

“Merlin! Merlin, I’m sorry,” And his grief and fear and pain soared away from him, through the air and he hoped somehow Merlin would know he was forgiven – and Arthur had begged forgiveness in his turn.

There was a moment when the world seemed to still, the snowflakes halting in their deadly dance and Arthur blinked as suddenly, impossibly, Merlin was standing in front of him, snow moving again and landing on Merlin’s brown jacket, to melt into dark spots on the worn leather.

A hallucination, Arthur thought. He’d heard of such things. It didn’t matter – all that mattered was that at the end, he wouldn’t feel so alone.

“Arthur? Dear Gods, what –?”

Arthur reached out and pulled Merlin to him, wrapping him up in the folds of his sodden cloak, spinning to squash Merlin against the rock before, clumsy with cold, he pressed his mouth to Merlin’s, stifling whatever his fevered imagination would have Merlin say. 

As the kiss continued, Arthur scrabbled to push cloth out of the way, working through the layers until he could slide a hand across Merlin’s bare back.

Merlin flinched and tried to pull away and grief nearly ended Arthur on the spot. He was ready to die if even a hallucination of Merlin rejected him.

“No, no you arse, come here. It’s just… your hands are freezing. Gods, Arthur, you’re freezing. I can’t – I’ve never done anything like that before but I heard you calling and I couldn’t - I had to come. I don’t know how I did it and I don’t even think I could manage fire at the moment.”

Even while he was talking, and Arthur wished he had the energy to tease at the way he was rambling, he was pulling Arthur back and wrapping them up together in the folds of Arthur’s cloak, until they were as close as they could be.

Arthur stared at him, but managed a small smile as Merlin grabbed Arthur’s hands and, even though he shivered, pushed Arthur’s hands until they were resting under Merlin’s shirt. There was snow melting on Merlin’s face, rivulets running down his cheeks but when Arthur leaned in and touched one with his mouth, it was warm and tasted of salt. He sighed, feeling suddenly warm and content and he dropped his head to lean it on Merlin’s shoulder and shut his eyes.

“No, Arthur, you need to stay awake.”

Arthur wondered a little at the panic in Merlin’s voice.

“Everything’s fine,” he mumbled into Merlin’s neck. “Love you.”

“What? Stay with me, Arthur. Gods… I can’t…”

Arthur was drifting towards sleep when he felt Merlin tense and throw his head back, shouting to the unforgiving sky. He couldn’t make out the words but as his knees buckled he thought he heard the sound of huge wings beating against the winds and they were coming closer.

 

**

 

Arthur was hot and tried to squirm away a little from the source of the heat but arms tightened round him and he was plastered even closer to the warmth. He mumbled a grumble but didn’t have the energy to make more of it, sighing as a hand carded through his hair.

“You’re warm now, Arthur. Go back to sleep. We’re safe.”

As Arthur slipped under once again, he realised he was naked and lying in Merlin’s arms. 

He was smiling when he fell asleep.

 

**

 

When next he awoke he was wrapped in blankets and covered in his cloak, but was alone. He pushed himself up onto one elbow and looked round blearily at his surroundings.

They appeared to be in a cave and the low light was being cast by a number of glowing stones, that appeared to be at different temperatures if the colour was any guide. They were keeping the place surprisingly warm and he pulled himself to his feet, blushing a little and grabbing his breeches and shirt to struggle into them. Even after few moments out of the nest of blankets and he found he was starting to shiver. He shoved his feet into his boots and wrapped his cloak around him. He could hear voices towards the cave entrance and followed them, not terribly surprised to see Kilgharrah’s bulk with Merlin sitting by him.

Merlin stood up when he saw Arthur.

“Arthur, you need to keep warm.” In the next moment, he’d taken off the cloak he was wearing and had added it to Arthur’s. Arthur tried to be irritated, but mostly he was still too tired and rather shocked at his brush with death to do more than bat feebly at Merlin’s fluttering hands. He tried to scowl at Merlin, but there was a softness in the smile he received in response.

“I’m fine, Merlin.” He nodded at Kilgharrah. “Thank you for your help.”

Kilgarrah seemed a little nonplussed. “Merlin is my Dragonlord. I will always come when he calls.” There was a short pause before he added. “But I would have helped you anyway, Once and Future King.” Then, as if shocked by his own admission. “I will hunt.” He hauled himself up and pitched off the rocky edge. Several of the small dragonets from the north scrambled after him, wheeling and diving.

Arthur couldn’t help his short burst of laughter at the sight, stepping closer to the edge to watch them all soar so effortlessly through the air. Merlin moved to his side, taking a grip on his arm.

“We’re a long way up.” 

They were. Arthur stared out over mountain tops and rolling hills. Glancing down at the steep slopes below, he could see no way down from this cavern. They could not be safer, he thought, or more restrained. Except he had a handy sorcerer around, of course.

“Come back to the fire,” Merlin said, tugging at his sleeve.

Arthur followed willingly enough, still feeling a chill at the heart of him, and he accepted the bowl of broth he was handed, sipping at the hot, meaty liquid.

“What happens now?” Arthur asked, when he’d finished.

“We should probably get back to Camelot. Hiccup’s decided to pay your father a visit.”

It took a moment to sink in and then Arthur was on his feet. “What?”

“Not an attack, Arthur, I promise. He just wants his people and the dragons to be safe. He thought the best way to do that was to let Uther know they can defend themselves.”

“That’s going to go well.”

Merlin shrugged, reaching up to tug at the cloak Arthur was wearing and waited until, with a sigh, Arthur settled beside him once more.

“So, you use magic? How long? Who taught you?” Arthur might as well use the fact they were trapped here for the time being to get some answers. At least his long walk in the wilderness had leached most of his anger and hurt away, working through the reasons Merlin would have acted the way he had. He’d also taken the time to re-evaluate some of his lucky escapes.

“I was born with magic, Arthur.”

Arthur listened in silence, witnessing what seemed to be almost a physical catharsis, while Merlin spoke about his early life, about Will, about coming to Camelot and everything he’d since then. It wasn’t all easy to hear or easy to speak of, but as the afternoon wore on Arthur saw the way Merlin sat straighter, his shoulders unbowed and acknowledged the weight Merlin had been carrying.

When Merlin fell silent, Arthur took the cloak and wrapped it around them both, bringing Merlin to his side and holding him close.

“Did my mother lie about my birth?”

Merlin was relaxed against him, almost sleepy. “Not entirely, but Morgause is manipulative. Magic had a place in your birth, but your father didn’t believe for a moment that she would die. He truly loved her.”

“But he blamed magic and everything that’s happened since –“ Arthur quailed at the thought of it. “All because of me.”

“You were a babe – much loved and wanted by all – even those who used their magic in your conception. There is no blame attached to you.”

The certainty in Merlin’s voice was a balm.

“You denied magic so I wouldn’t kill my father. Merlin.”

“You’d never have forgiven yourself. I couldn’t let you do that.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I know.”

The words were uttered with such solemnity that they took a moment to register and even longer until Arthur saw Merlin struggling to restrain laughter.

“You – “ In a moment he had Merlin pinned to the rocky floor, the pair of them tangled in the folds of the cape, but all he could do was smile helplessly as Merlin grinned up at him, relief in his eyes.

Well, it wasn’t quite all he could do.

He leaned forward, waiting for Merlin to push him away, to deny this, but Merlin’s smile only widened and his hands slid up and around to the nape of Arthur’s neck, pressing downwards.

Their mouths met, gentle, shy and seeking, lacking the urgency of that first kiss when Arthur thought he was hallucinating and about to die. 

They were young men, in the first flush of the realisation of their love, and the shyness soon segued into passion. Arthur tightened his arms around Merlin and Merlin groaned as the action pulled their bodies close together. Arthur broke off from kissing Merlin, staring into soft, lust-filled eyes. Merlin, cheeky, and irrepressible as always, grinned at him and thrust his hips forward.

Arthur choked on a laugh, caught up in a sudden rush of mixed emotions, and chief amongst them was joy.

“Haven’t you mated yet? I left you long enough alone.” Kilgharrah managed a tone somewhere between aggrieved and bored.

Neither man had noticed his return, proof enough of their infatuation, because a dragon didn’t tend to land quietly.

Merlin squeaked and Arthur knew they sported matching blushes, but he refused to let go and Merlin settled against him.

“We’re in no rush,” Arthur lied, ignoring the surreptitious elbow in the ribs that earned him. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“I brought meat and water.” With that, Kilgharrah heated some of the rocks around them and then turned his back on them, coiling his tail around his bulk and letting out a great, snorting sigh.

With a shrug, Merlin offered Arthur a light kiss, and then eased out of their embrace. Arthur pouted. Merlin splashed some water at him, then approached the carcass of the deer. Arthur joined him, and grimaced. Kilgharrah had clearly enjoyed some of the softer parts already. Still, there was plenty of good meat there and they set to in silence, butchering the rest.

 

**

 

After they’d eaten, they sat against a warm rock face, under the cover of their cloaks and began to discuss their next move. Kilgharrah had moved to face them and took his own part in the conversation, ignoring the small dragonets that flitted about him, even when they had the temerity to curl up on or against him. Arthur couldn’t stop himself grinning at the sight. Even the memory of what this beast had done, seemed to have been muted by recent experience and new knowledge. He sighed.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” he asked.

Merlin was plastered against his side and there was no way Arthur could miss the sudden tension. Merlin nodded.

“You’d better tell me all of it.”

“It’s about Morgana. Everything I did, I thought I did for the best, but where Morgana’s concerned, I got everything wrong.”

Kilgharrah snorted.

“And some of that is laid at your door, too.” 

Arthur’s eyebrows rose at the unexpected flare of anger, and even more at Kilgharrah’s lack of response.

Out it poured then, the truth behind Morgana’s nightmares, her growing magic, her attempt on Uther’s life, Merlin’s attempts to help and how badly they had gone. Merlin spoke of the prophecy, foretelling Morgana’s betrayal, and then trailed into silence after he spoke of the poisoning.

“The witch should have died.”

If Arthur hadn’t been listening closely, to tone and pitch as well as words, he might have missed the uncertainty in Kilgharrah’s voice. He thought of what Merlin had told him, how his meddling had brought the vision in the crystal to reality, and understood how and why they found themselves at this point. It was a crucial axis, he thought, the moment when every choice they made now would have far reaching consequences. It had already begun when he’d accepted Merlin’s magic, forever changing the way he saw the world and his place in it, as well as his relationship with his father and King. Merlin would follow him whatever he decided, and the dragon would have to do what he was bid. It was up to Arthur to find a new way, then. He reached out with his free hand and linked his fingers with Merlin’s.

“We will make our own destiny.”

Merlin’s blinding smile was enough to take away his breath, and he was vain enough to revel in the adulation for a few moments. Merlin was a practical man, though and soon enough he asked.

“How?”

“It sounds as if Morgause could cure Morgana. If they’re already working together then I expect they’re plotting against Camelot. We need to find a way to make them allies rather than enemies.

“They’ll never forgive Uther – or me.”

“They don’t have to forgive Uther. All they have to do is acknowledge and understand that I’ll bring magic back to Camelot, and that I’ll need their help. We need to talk to them, to tell them everything you’ve told me. They may not be able to forgive you, Merlin, but perhaps they’ll be able to accept that you were faced with an impossible dilemma.”

“You would let the witch live?”

“And that’s the first thing.. Her name is Morgana. You undermine our cause if you refer to her in a manner that demeans her magic.”

There was a long silence at that.

“Your father’s been searching for her for almost a year. How can we expect to find her?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Arthur grinned at Merlin. “They know to hide from my father, but we have other resources available to us. Kilgharrah?” Kilgharrah turned his head and fixed Arthur with a forbidding stare. Arthur took no notice. “Could you take us to Hiccup?”

 

**

 

Lancelot had no particular destination in mind, and he meandered through the countryside exploring whichever direction took his fancy on any given day. In the past, that hadn’t mattered, because he’d travelled alone but now, with Percival and Gwaine in tow, he discovered his companions were looking towards him for leadership and began to question his own aimless journey. 

“I’m sure we stopped in this clearing last week,” Gwaine was peering around at a glade that did, Lancelot had to admit, look eerily familiar.

Percival was nodding in agreement.

“So, you don’t actually have a plan, do you?” Gwaine asked once they’d made their camp and were sharing a skin of wine.

Lancelot opened his mouth and then closed it again without speaking.

“That would be a no,” Percival said.

“Thought so. “

“Do we need a plan?” Lancelot asked.

“Well, I’m not normally a great one for plans, but going round in circles isn’t much better. Other than you not actually wanting to leave Camelot, where do you want to go?”

“Am I that transparent?”

“Guinevere.” 

Percival only had to speak one name, but it underlined what Lancelot had already realised. Percival may be quiet, but there was no lack of intelligence.

“So what do you suggest?” he asked them.

“We’re a good unit. We could get some work as mercenaries. There’s not much else for us, let’s face it.”

“I couldn’t fight for someone I didn’t believe in.”

Lancelot saw the look Gwaine levelled at him.

“Then find a cause. I don’t mind finding a cause to fight for if they pay me and I can get to a tavern now and again. What about your friend, Merlin? Could he help us? Uther’s knights are spread pretty thin from what I hear.”

“I’m not sure I’d be welcome in Camelot.”

“We don’t have to be based in the citadel or the town. Plenty of countryside to patrol.”

“It’s a possibility.” It was more than that, and it provided Lancelot with a feeling of purpose he’d been missing for some time. He needed to have something to believe in – and he believed in Camelot and the future Merlin had spoken of. “And I could write to Sir Leon. He may be able to help, too.”

“Look at that – a plan! Excellent. Pass the wine.”

Percival snorted and was in the process of handing over the skin when his jaw dropped open and he gaped open-mouthed at a point over Gwaine’s head.

Lancelot followed his gaze and was on his feet in the next moment. The creature hovering above Gwaine’s head retreated for a moment, before returning to flutter round Gwaine again.

“What is it?”

Gwaine turned his head carefully and Lancelot was startled into a laugh. That seemed to please their visitor for some reason and it flitted around him before returning to Gwaine and hovering at eye level.

“Well, hello little fellow.”

There was what they assumed was a friendly chirping and then it advanced on Gwaine, reaching across to rub against Gwaine’s hair. Percival let out a hoot of laughter that resulted in a rapid disappearance.

“Sorry, but what on earth was it.”

“If I didn’t know better,” Lancelot said, “I would have called it a dragon.”

They stared at one another, and then Gwaine grabbed the wine skin and took a deep draught.

Later, as Lancelot took his turn on watch, he witnessed a small creature sidling up to Gwaine’s snoring figure and nestle into his hair. Curious eyes met his and he nodded. “Perhaps you know Merlin,” Lancelot said, and was surprised to see the dragon’s head tip to one side for a moment, before it settled down and shut its eyes.

Lancelot grinned. “Now what have you been getting up to, old friend?”

 

**

 

Hiccup realised something was up when Toothless reared up and stared northwards. The other dragons with them soon joined him, and somehow Hiccup wasn’t surprised when Kilgarrah hove into view. What did surprise him, were the two figures perched on his back.

Well, well.

Astrid and his mother appeared at his side and he traded a grin with them as they waited.

Kilgharrah set down with grace, and Hiccup struggled not to laugh as Arthur and Merlin made a much less elegant descent. In fact, if Merlin hadn’t grabbed Arthur’s flailing arm, there was every possibility that Arthur would have landed on his face. Hiccup composed himself, trying hard not to look as if he was one second from giggling at a Prince. 

Arthur cast him a suspicious look, brushed off Merlin’s hand, but with a gentleness that was telling, and then stalked towards them.

Merlin was grinning, obviously happy, and Hiccup thought he could almost feel the relief bleeding from him.

Arthur stepped up and extended his arm. Slightly taken aback, Hiccup reached out and they gripped, elbow to elbow. A warrior’s salute, Hiccup thought, and despite himself felt honoured. Toothless sidled up beside him and glared at Arthur.

With a grin, Arthur found that one spot under Toothless’ chin, scratching gently. “Thanks for the fish, Toothless.”

Hiccup swallowed. “Raw regurgitated fish?”

“It was fine once he heated up a rock and I could cook it.”

Hiccup cast a betrayed look at Toothless, and got a slap from an ear for his trouble.

“What can we do for you, Prince Arthur?”

“I want to bring magic back to Camelot - and to do that, I need to find some allies – and enemies - and then join with you to confront my father. Would the dragons help?”

Hiccup gaped at him. “That’s – a plan?”

“That’s the bare bones of it,” It was Merlin who answered, while Arthur just stood by looking extremely pleased with himself.

Bare bones was one way to describe it. All he’d heard about Uther Pendragon suggested any confrontation was unlikely to end well. Hiccup looked at Toothless, who turned and stared at Merlin. Hiccup liked impossible odds. “Who do we need to find?”

 

**

 

The next few hours were spent in developing the plan Arthur had been working on. Kilgharrah had disappeared but Hiccup knew Merlin could call him back should they need him. Astrid and his mother were part of the planning, both offering insights and ideas. While he felt the loss of his father keenly, he was at least glad to have their support and good sense. Stoick, he thought, would probably have suggested a full frontal attack. The plan they finally fleshed on was much more subtle and would, Hiccup hoped, leave Uther with the option of a graceful way out. That was assuming he chose to take it.

Their small group eventually settled around the fire, the dragons encircling them and offering shelter from the cold winter breezes. Hiccup tried not to react at the pointed look from Astrid as Arthur and Merlin settled down for the night, curled up together under their joint blankets and cloaks. He grabbed his own blankets and raised his eyebrows, grinning when Astrid ducked under his arm and they made their own way to where Toothless was already asleep.

 

**

 

Arthur had picked a deserted castle as a meeting point and while the dragon riders set out on their own quest, Arthur and Merlin were taken there by Valka. 

The castle sat on a hill and was remarkably intact. As they passed through the threshold Merlin shivered slightly and realised someone in the past had put wards around it. He reached out with his magic, probing slightly, and caught only a yearning for safety and a belief in a far off future. He smiled and sent a reassurance of his own, a message back through time itself to let whoever had protected this place know it had not been in vain.

Arthur was watching him, his head tilted on one side, though he didn’t comment, merely nodding as if fully aware of what Merlin had done. 

“Hopefully the dragons will find Gaius in Camelot fairly quickly. I just hope they remember to keep hidden and just leave him the message. “ Arthur said.

“They’ll be fine.” Valka said. “Their sense of self-preservation is stronger than you might think. Your directions were good, Arthur. They’ll get the message to Gaius and he’ll contact Sir Leon. Finding Morgana and Morgause may be more difficult. Though if anyone can find them, it will be Hiccup and Astrid. Why don’t you boys go and gather some firewood, and we’ll get this place ready for everyone arriving.”

Merlin mouthed ‘boys’ at Arthur as they made their way into the courtyard, and was rewarded with a grin. His heart swelled. Despite their situation and feeling the trepidation of having to face Morgana, he’d never been happier. Arthur knew about his magic and understood what he’d done and why. He suppose he should have expected that once Arthur recovered from that initial, characteristic, rush of anger and betrayal, that he’d think it through carefully. Arthur knew everything now and it removed a weight from his shoulders he’d hardly been aware of, and even helped to ease the grief of his father’s death. There was more to be said and spoken of, because beyond the magic was the understanding they’d found, the acknowledgement of how they felt for one another. 

A sharp jab to the ribs and Arthur’s exasperated expression brought him back to the present, and he grinned, jostling him as they made their way out of the castle to complete their chores, shoulder to shoulder.

 

**

 

Gaius startled awake, peering out into the room, convinced he wasn’t alone.

“Who’s there?”

A squeak, a clatter and a flurry of movement had him reaching for the covered lamp by the bed. By the time there was light enough for him to see, the room was still and silent.

With a grunt, and cursing his old bones, he pulled himself from the bed and looked around. Some of his bottles were scattered on the table, though nothing was broken. On the top was a letter. Frowning, he picked it up and recognised both Arthur’s decisive writing as well as his personal seal. 

He opened his door and hailed the first person he saw. “I need you to find Sir Leon and bring him here. Straight away.”


	5. Chapter 5

Hiccup scanned the countryside, glancing across to where Astrid was perched on her own dragon, her eyes fixed on the ground below. Merlin had suggested that the inability of Uther’s patrols to find Morgana and Morgause was probably due to Morgause casting some type of magic to cloak them. They were placing their hopes on the amount of power it would take to maintain such a spell, and that Morgause wouldn’t think to extend her shield further than the walls surrounding them. He’d sent out the others, some to find the other groups of dragons making their way to Camelot, and some to begin a grid search. Once they all had their search areas, it shouldn’t take them long to cover the ground. Hiccup and Astrid were flying over an area close to the centre of Camelot’s land, and everyone else had been told to come and find them if they saw anything strange.

It was getting close to the end of the day when a whoop cut through the sound of the dragon’s flight. Toothless wheeled sharply, and Hiccup grabbed the harness and cursed. 

In the distance a figure was becoming recognisable and Hiccup called out a greeting to Snotlout. Eventually the excited gesticulations were accompanied by words as he drew alongside.

“I think we found them. Just 15 leagues or so from here. It looks like a hilltop from the ground but when we flew over it, there’s a castle. What do you think?”

“Sounds like the place.” Hiccup couldn’t really believe it wasn’t, not the way it was being described to him – almost exactly as Merlin had predicted. “Can you get everyone else to the meeting place once you’ve shown us the way. We’ll see what Morgana and Morgause have to say and then we’ll meet you there tomorrow.”

“Okay. Follow me.” And they were off.

Hiccup’s sense of certainty was only reinforced when he hovered above what had appeared like the top of a hill and found himself looking down at stone walls. After much discussion, Astrid agreed she would remain outside the enchanted area, and if Hiccup didn’t reappear after a certain time, she’d head off to get Merlin and Arthur. At least, Hiccup was almost sure that’s what they’d agreed. Astrid had certainly nodded when he said it. He cast a wary glance at the set jaw and scowl – and decided not to push his luck.

“Better go and see if they’ll listen to me, I suppose.”

Astrid shrugged. “Try not to get yourself killed.”

“It’ll be fine.” With another wary look, he waited until Astrid had set down and then patted Toothless. “You be on your best behaviour, yeah?”

Toothless looked at him.

“I mean it.”

Toothless leapt upwards without offering any kind of response, and before Hiccup was entirely ready, he was drifting down into a cobbled courtyard. He was greeted by silence and the whole place was apparently deserted. Glancing at Toothless, Hiccup could see that his attention was fixed on one of the large windows in a largely intact part of the building. 

“Hello? Morgause? Morgana? Can I talk to you? We’re harmless, I promise.”

He was convinced he heard a most unladylike snort at that.

“I’ve got more dragons,” he said. “And we’re going to Camelot.” He took a deep breath. “Prince Arthur and Merlin are with us.”

“Why do you think we would want anything to do with Arthur Pendragon – or his murdering serving boy? What do the people of the north have to do with this?”

They way they’d referred to Merlin was telling and he was sure they still didn’t know about Merlin’s magic. Hiccup wasn’t sure whether that information would help or hinder him, and it wasn’t his secret to tell, so he let that be.

“All I’m really interested in is keeping my people safe. Uther is convinced that we’ve kidnapped the Lady Morgana and sent Prince Arthur to spy on us. He’s been convinced his father is wrong and is going with us to – you know – sort it all out.”

“Sort it out? How do you do that without killing the tyrant?”

“Not interested in killing – seen enough of that, thanks.” He could hear the bleakness in his own voice. He stepped away from Toothless as two figures exited and walked slowly towards him. Merlin had offered a vivid description and it was easy to recognise Morgause, strong and blond-haired dressed in breeches and leather jerkin. Morgana, so pale, was still suffering from the effects of the poison Merlin had administered. He knew they’d noticed his own disability but didn’t care overmuch – it was part of him now and he rarely thought of it.

“Why would Arthur even care about us?”

“Arthur wants to see peace in Camelot – and he wants to bring the magic back. He needs your help. And he’s worried about you, Morgana – he wants to know you’re safe.”

“Does he know what Merlin did to her? Do you think she’d ever be safe?”

Toothless moved, restless, ears flicking and Hiccup knew he was paying careful attention.

“Yes, he knows what Merlin did. He knows why. He knows what would have happened if Merlin hadn’t broken the spell you’d anchored to the Lady Morgana. Everyone would have died – isn’t that right?”

Morgana drew in a breath. “Morgause?” 

Hiccup didn’t think it was possible for her to become any paler.

“You agreed, Morgana – you said you’d do anything.” For the first time, Morgause seemed uncertain.

“I was so afraid. Everyone was falling asleep and those knights couldn’t be stopped. Arthur tried to help me. Merlin held me. He was crying.” Morgana pressed a hand to her forehead, swaying a little. Morgause moved as if to catch her, but Toothless was quicker, wrapping a wing around Morgana and bringing her gently to lean against his side.

One of the wonderful things about this wonderful creature, Hiccup thought, was his capacity to continually surprise.

“You can keep fighting, or you can find a way to work together to bring magic back to Camelot and find peace. It’s your choice.”

“I want to go.” Morgana seemed to have drawn strength from Toothless in some way and she faced Morgause, her chin high. “Arthur has always been good to me, he’s always had honour – even when he’s annoying and arrogant, he still is honourable. My argument has never been with him.”

“If that is your wish, sister, then that’s what we’ll do.” Morgause didn’t appear entirely convinced but Hiccup supposed it couldn’t be easy to give up on a vendetta so quickly. He thought of Stoic’s views on the dragons, views held by most of their clan for generations. It hadn’t been easy to convince them all, though they’d got there in the end.

“How long will it take us to travel to this meeting place?” Morgause asked.

Hiccup grinned. “Not long. Better wrap up warm, though.”

 

**

 

“Sir Leon?”

“Lancelot?”

_“Guinevere?”_

_“Lancelot?”_

Gwaine wasn’t much of a romantic, or so he told himself, but witnessing this meeting might just convert him – if he didn’t die of the sweetness of it all in the meantime.

For some reason, they’d been circling round and getting closer to Camelot itself. Gwaine wanted to believe it was chance that brought them to this point, but there was something about the past few weeks, since he’d met Lancelot and Percival, that felt horribly like fate was playing with them. They’d just settled in this clearing, making camp for the night, when the sounds of another party approaching had them reaching for their swords, wary of the newcomers. Gwaine noticed the way Lancelot relaxed at the sight of the red cape, only to appear thunderstruck as he saw the woman travelling with them.

Ah, the famous Guinevere. Pretty enough, he thought, but nothing that special, surely. Then she saw Lancelot and her face lit up, joy and sweetness in her smile. Almost enough to take Gwaine’s breath away. A nudge from Percival stopped him staring at her. Lancelot seemed incapable of speech, so Gwaine stepped forward and bowed to her, holding out a hand to help her dismount.

“My lady, I am ever at your service. My name is Gwaine.”

Her gaze shifted from Lancelot to him, and he was impressed by its shrewdness and humour. This was someone he wouldn’t be able to fool. She slipped off her horse unaided. “Thank you, sir, for your kind words.” Her tone was dry.

Sir Leon had been watching with some amusement, and now he turned to Lancelot, reaching out to exchange a grip, elbow to elbow.

“Well met, Lancelot. We go to meet Prince Arthur and I suspect he might welcome your help.” He glanced at Percival and Gwaine and Lancelot offered the introductions. The final member of Leon’s party, a quiet man, was introduced as Elyan, Guinevere’s brother.

Gwaine noticed the way Leon’s gaze settled on him, curious, as if searching his memory and he frowned at the sight, turning away to help in the enlargement of their camp. When he caught Leon’s eyes again, Leon nodded, as if in reassurance, and Gwaine relaxed. Percival hadn’t missed the exchange though and raised his own eyebrows. Gwaine shook his head and Percival too let it go.

They settled around their shared fire and Leon told them about the letter suddenly arriving in Gaius’ room, about how Arthur had asked Sir Leon to meet him and Gwen and Elyan had insisted on accompanying him. Leon also spoke about Uther’s search for Morgana and his insistence that she’d been kidnapped. He explained about Arthur’s journey to the north, but stopped short of speculating why he hadn’t returned directly to Camelot, or why he wanted Sir Leon to meet him. 

“We’ll find out when we reach the castle,” was all he would say on the subject. “It’s only a league from here.”

He was loyal, Gwaine had to give him that. What was this Prince Arthur like, he wondered, to inspire such loyalty – not just from Leon, but from Lancelot, Gwen and Elyan, too?

As far as Gwaine was concerned, his own experience of the nobility meant he would definitely reserve judgement.

 

**

 

Safe to say whatever Morgana had expected of her day when she woke, ending it by flying on the back of a dragon was not on the list. Here she was though, the wind against her face, teasing her long dark hair free from its scarf and a fierce sense of joy flowing through her body and heart. She glanced across where she could see Morgause on the back of the other dragon, and even from here she could see Morgause was less than happy. Morgana had complete faith in Toothless. He would not let harm come to her. She was sitting in front of Hiccup, clipped in to a harness and felt comfortable, holding lightly to the leather and looking around with interest, marvelling at the land spread out below her. For the first time in months, Morgana felt well and almost content, wishing they could just fly on and on. The thought of facing Arthur and worse – Merlin – made the idea of taking a long journey by dragon pleasing. She sighed. This was not a confrontation she would enjoy, but it was a necessary one. In addition, she still had to come to terms with the way Morgause had interpreted her willingness to play a part in Uther’s downfall. 

In the distance, the dark bulk of their meeting place came into view and Morgana shivered.

 

**

 

Arthur was perched on a rather precarious battlement when he first caught sight of the bright scarlet of a knight’s cape. He watched, puzzled as he realised that Leon seemed to have brought company, and was cheered when, even from this distance, he recognised Lancelot’s upright bearing and Gwen, too. He remembered Elyan but the other two were unknown to him. Clambering down, he made his way to the gate, joined by Merlin on the way.

They hadn’t had much time alone together since the cave and Arthur met Merlin’s shy smile and blush with a brief press of fingers, feeling his own cheeks heat. Valka was taking great delight in teasing them at every opportunity and she winked now as they walked past her.

With a deep breath, Arthur recaptured Merlin’s hand and entwined their fingers. This was not something he intended to hide, so their friends and comrades had better get used to it. Merlin was grinning now, and his fingers tightened briefly around Arthur’s, as they walked towards the castle entrance.

“Looks like Leon got our message, and he’s bringing a couple of friends.” Arthur refused to be drawn and had the pleasure of witnessing Merlin’s joy as he saw Lancelot.

There was a flurry of introductions, handshakes and hugs. Arthur tensed at the reaction of one of the newcomers – Gwaine – to Merlin, and stepped closer, proprietary. Merlin rolled his eyes and Gwaine raised his brows and grinned. Together, they trooped up the slope to the castle and talked as they settled the horses. Once in the courtyard the newcomers stumbled to a halt as they gazed in awe at the sleepy dragon curled on the paving stones. Arthur took no notice, stepping around him and calling on Valka. One of the small dragons streaked past him, deposited something at Valka’s feet and then promptly dropped onto Gwaine’s shoulder, snuggling into his hair.

“What in name of the Gods,” Gwaine stood stock still, eyes wide. They all heard the sleepy burp, and laughed at the way the little dragon draped itself around Gwaine’s neck. It opened an eye at the noise, made a sound that was almost scolding and then was asleep. 

It was the amused expression on Gwaine’s face that warmed Arthur toward him. There was a tolerance and an acceptance there that he appreciated. A glance at Merlin saw his own thoughts reflected, though he frowned a little at the warmth in Merlin’s eyes. 

Valka elbowed him in the side and he winced.

“Why don’t you all come up to the great hall. It’s warm there and we have food.” She said. “Arthur can tell you what’s going on.”

As she led the way in, Arthur heard Leon ask, “Who is she? And dragons, Merlin?”

He didn’t hear Merlin’s response, suddenly captivated, and surprisingly rather charmed, by the sight of Gwaine placing a protective hand over his passenger as he walked. He smiled at Leon’s question, too, thinking of the number of dragons in small camps around the castle and wondering what his friend would think when he heard Arthur’s plans.

When they were settled, Arthur didn’t say much more other than they were waiting for Morgana and Morgause. Leon looked up at that point and Gwen inhaled sharply.

In the end, they didn’t have long to wait as the dragon in the courtyard let out a call that brought them into the courtyard once more, watching as it reared up and stared at the sky. In the distance, Arthur could see two specks, gradually growing larger and finally becoming defined as two dragons, each carrying two passengers. Well, Arthur thought, they’ve come. Now I have to find some way to convince them to help us. He glanced at Merlin and moved closer to him, wishing he could do something to ease this encounter. Merlin spared him a quick, tight smile. Arthur gripped his elbow and tried to convey both sympathy and support, while acknowledging this was an encounter Merlin would have to navigate unaided.

 

**

 

Merlin watched as Astrid and Hiccup brought the dragons in. The trees around the area were already holding the amassed dragons from the north, and keeping them under control was a challenge, even more so when the northerners seemed just as excited. Merlin hoped Hiccup would have more luck in settling them all down.

For now, he had a much more pressing worry. Arthur stepped up to stand beside him and a hand gripped his elbow, the sight hidden from others by the fold of his cape. Merlin was grateful for the support, especially when he saw the identity of the passengers accompanying Hiccup and Astrid.

Arthur stepped forward.

“Thank you,” he said. “Lady Morgause, Morgana – thank you for coming. Morgana, are you well?”

There was real concern in his voice that surely none of them could misinterpret, thought Merlin.

“No thanks to your servant.” Morgause broke the silence. 

Straight to the accusations, Merlin realised, well at least it would get this conversation out of the way immediately.

“You know the reason I did what I did, Morgause.” Merlin said. “You know it wouldn’t have been my choice. I’m sorry, Morgana. I’m so sorry.”

Morgana ignored him. “Why have you asked us to come here, Arthur?”

“Let’s get inside. Hiccup, will you and Astrid join us?”

Merlin took a moment to be amused when Arthur, at his autocratic best, didn’t wait for a response, but turned and led the way into the castle. Valka smiled as they all entered, and motioned them towards some benches set before the fire. Morgana stopped in the doorway when she saw the others, her gaze catching on Leon for a moment, before sliding away. It was Gwen who stepped forward, her hands outstretched, reaching out to grasp Morgana’s hands and draw her gently to a seat by the fire. Morgana blinked several times and withdrew her hands from the hold as she sat, but at least she had a small smile for Gwen.

There was a pot of cider warming and Valka served them all. Merlin was ready to help but took one look at Morgana and decided it wasn’t his best idea. He sat down close to Arthur, nervous and chock full of shame. He fixed his eyes on the flagstones.

“Why are we here?” Morgana asked again.

“It’s time for change in Camelot.” 

Arthur appeared relaxed but Merlin, sitting so close, could feel the tension thrumming through him.

“I love my father and have no wish to usurp him, but his stance on magic weakens us. And I don’t believe magic is evil – not any more.”

“Fine words, Arthur Pendragon. What has brought about this miraculous change? How do we know you won’t simply lure magic users out and then butcher us all? It’s what Uther would do. What proof do we have that you’re any different?”

“Arthur wouldn’t –“ Merlin wanted to defend Arthur, but Arthur placed a gentle hand on his arm and Merlin bit his lip, holding back the words. When he glanced up, Morgana was staring at Arthur’s hand, and there was a dawning knowledge there.

She looked up and met his eyes and he saw a new betrayal.

“Morgana,” he whispered, and he blinked hard, fixing his eyes on the floor once more.

“It’s true, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve changed your mind, Arthur. For him.”

Merlin looked up, to discover that Arthur was watching him, expression soft and a little rueful. Without breaking their locked gaze, Arthur responded.

“Not entirely. Merlin made me open my eyes, made me think about how I’d been following my father’s laws without understanding why they were made. I had some time to think – about magic, about Camelot, about what the shade of my mother told me, Morgause. You may have manipulated that encounter but the basic truth is that magic was used in my conception, and Uther blamed it when my mother died. Everything since stems from that point. 

I look at the kingdoms around us, where magic is used every day and I don’t see it used for ill, or see puppets on thrones. I see the way their lands are fertile where year by year Camelot’s fields produce less. I see fewer animals in our forests, fewer birds in our trees and now I understand that magic is a part of our life and by trying to destroy it, Uther is destroying us all.”

Not even Merlin had made the connection between magic and the land, and he looked around the others to see what reaction Arthur’s words had, whether his own surprise would be mirrored. Morgana, Hiccup, Astrid and Valka all appeared surprised and Morgause was thoughtful. It was she who spoke.

“I was a priestess of the Old Religion. Part of our role, along with the Druids, was to help maintain the earth magic, to pay tribute to the gods who watch over us all. Without the rites, without the magic, Camelot would fail. You have begun to understand, Arthur Pendragon, and I’m glad of it. But you still haven’t answered Morgana’s question. Why are we here and what do you intend to do?”

“I want to go to Camelot and confront Uther. Either he needs to lift the ban on magic, or he must step aside.”

Merlin could see what this was costing Arthur, and pressed closer. His concentration was all on Arthur and when he glanced around again, he found Morgana’s eyes fixed on him. He started a little, caught in her gaze and felt his shame heat his skin. Arthur’s hand settled on his arm again as silence fell and all attention settled on him. Arthur was also looking at Merlin and his eyes were kind but his countenance was resolute. He understood what this would cost Merlin, but would not let him shirk from it. There was too much at stake. Merlin offered him a weak smile and a short nod of understanding.

“Magic has never left Camelot completely.” He found his voice. “It was hidden, afraid and did its best in the shadows to protect and to work towards the destiny of the Once and Future King – Arthur’s destiny. Fear kept it silent and fear led to terrible mistakes.” He blinked and swallowed hard, then held out his hand. With a whispered word, a dragon made of fire danced in his palm.

This was his real betrayal of Morgana.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You – “

Morgana was on her feet and fleeing the room. Merlin and Morgause both stood, but Arthur raised a hand. “Give her a moment.”

Morgause bridled. “She’s my sister – she needs me.”

“Morgana has been a sister to me for over ten years. Trust me, she needs some time.”

“Astrid’s like that. Gets angry and needs a – ow!”

Despite the situation, Merlin had to work hard not to laugh at the aggrieved expression on Hiccup’s face as both Astrid and Valka elbowed him in the ribs and then glared at him.

“What did I say?” he asked, plaintive.

Valka rolled her eyes, and changed the subject.

“This is all well and good but what are we to do?”

 

**

 

In the end it was Merlin who slipped out, grateful for Arthur’s subtle urging and the comforting clasp of his hand as he rose. Morgause glowered but said nothing and didn’t try to stop him.

Morgana was leaning against Toothless’ side. As Merlin approached, Toothless curved a wing around her and stared at him. 

Raising his eyebrows, Merlin said. “Toothless likes you.” In the background, he was aware of the bulk of a much bigger, much older, much more troublesome dragon. 

“Does Arthur know what I did?”

Merlin guessed she was referring to her aborted attempt on Uther’s life.

“He knows everything I know.”

She drew in a deep breath, as if surprised.

Merlin had to tell her everything. “The thing is,” he had to stop to swallow and pushed the words out. “The thing is I don’t think there’s much I would do different. Except – I would have told you about the magic. I promise you I would have told you.”

Morgana rested her head against Toothless. “I was so afraid,” she whispered.

“So was I.”

“I told him you were dangerous. I warned him against you again and again. That was the prophecy: that you would bring about the downfall of the Once and Future King. I told him so many times that you had to die, but he would not listen, he refused to believe the evil that was within you.”

Kilgharrah’s voice cut through the dark and Merlin could see the moonlight reflect in the golden eyes as he turned his head towards him. Toothless let out a rumble, a warning as Kilgharrah moved closer. Merlin heard Morgana’s gasp of shock at the sheer size of him. Merlin stepped forward, too, standing between Morgana and Kilgharrah and stretching out a hand.

“You will not harm her.”

“I will not, even if you had not commanded me, Dragonlord. Prince Arthur has sent destiny down a different path and the future is no longer clear to me. I do not know what part Morgana and Morgause will play now, but for the first time in decades, I have … hope.”

“We should all have trusted more,’” Merlin said, and he had to swallow against regret. “I should have trusted Arthur.”

“Yes you certainly should. It’s fortunate I have a forgiving nature, isn’t it?” Arthur stepped up beside Morgana and draped a cloak around her shoulders, earning himself a gentle slap of an ear from Toothless. He offered a brisk pat to the black hide in response and Toothless settled.

Merlin swallowed and looked down.

“Stop it.” Arthur placed a hand under his chin, and as his hand still remained on Morgana’s shoulder, he was a bridge between them. “I know you have much to talk about, and there are some things that may never be right between you, but we were all friends once and fought together for a righteous cause. I hope we can do so again. Come and see what I found.”

He offered an arm to Morgana and after some hesitation, she accepted it her eyebrows rising slightly as Arthur used his other hand to grab Merlin and tug him along with them. Once inside, he released them and moved across to an alcove, pulling at a covering. Merlin gasped as a table was revealed, perfectly round, decorated and pulsing with power. He saw Morgause and Morgana exchange a look and Morgause raised an eyebrow in his direction. He nodded, indicating that he, too, could feel the power.

“Everyone, please sit.” 

Somehow, there were chairs for all of them and Arthur let themselves find their own seats, except he guided Merlin to sit on his right and Morgana to sit on his left. Arthur looked around the table and met every pair of eyes, holding the look for a moment before moving on.

“We have a choice, here and now,” he said. “We can remain mired in the past, in a back and forth of blame and bitterness and anger. Or we can set it aside and find a new way; a way that benefits not just us, but our people, our allies in the north, and many of the lands in between. We can accept magic back into the heart of Camelot where it belongs, and while we can’t undo the past, we can work towards a new understanding and a new way of living. This is a key moment, an instant in time when we can decide to work together. I can’t do this alone. I can’t do this with some of you. I need you all.”

There was a long silence.

Hiccup cleared his throat and got to his feet. “The people of the north stand with you, Arthur Pendragon. In supporting you in this endeavour, we gain strong allies and secure the safety of our dragons. So, you know, here we are.” He grinned round at the rest of them. Astrid and Valka stood up to join him. 

Leon was the next, expressing his loyalty and one by one the others followed. Lancelot was earnest, Elyan a quiet reassurance, Percival followed Lancelot’s lead and Gwaine, Gwaine was insouciant but Arthur could see the steady hand on a carefully kept sword and recalled his care of a sleeping dragon and nodded his acceptance.

Gwen smiled. “You know you don’t have to ask, Arthur.” She said as she got to her feet to join the others.

Arthur tried not to show his anxiety as he looked at the three left, those who represented magic. Morgause and Morgana were looking at one another and if Arthur hadn’t been watching so closely he might have missed Morgana’s miniscule nod.

Together, the women stood and Morgause spoke. “I am a Priestess of the Old Religion and will speak for Prince Arthur of Camelot when he seeks the support of magic users. We will stand with you in your wish to bring magic back to Camelot, Arthur, but if you betray us…” She let the threat hang.

Morgana’s voice was less certain. “I might be able to trust you, Arthur – you have never done me wrong. But you – “ her eyes fixed on Merlin. “How could I ever trust you?”

“You must find a way,” It was Arthur who spoke as Merlin seemed beyond any response, his head down. 

“I will try.” 

It was a huge thing for Morgana to even attempt such forgiveness, Arthur knew that from the years they’d lived together, knowing how difficult she found it to forget or forgive a slight. He nodded his acknowledgement of that and then turned to the one person still sitting.

Merlin was staring at Morgana and there was hope shining in his expression.

“Merlin?”

“Naw, don’t really fancy it.”

“You don’t get a choice.”

Arthur reached out and grabbed Merlin’s hand, hauling him to his feet. They grinned at one another and Arthur didn’t release his hand.

“Together we stand, the people of the north, my new knights and allies of magic. You sit at our round table, where no person is more than any other through breeding, chance or magic, where all have a voice and where we begin working together toward a new golden age for Camelot.”

 

**

 

Hiccup watched with some bemusement as Arthur seemed to actively turn enemies into allies. It was quite something to witness. He could see the pride on Merlin’s face, too and began to understand why Merlin was so loyal and why his belief in Arthur was so total. He exchanged a glance with Astrid and she grinned at him.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asked.

Arthur sat down and the others followed suit. “With Uther there is only one tactic that will work, and that’s to face him with overwhelming odds. If he sees that there is no way force will win the day for him, then he’ll look for a way out. And that’s what we need to provide. We have to ensure there’s a loophole, somewhere for him to go or something for him to do that means he can save face.”

“He should die for his crimes,” said Morgause.

Arthur looked at her. “I expect you’re right, but at the end of the day, he’s still my father.” He changed the direction of his gaze and waited until Morgana met his eyes. “He was tearing Camelot apart looking for his ward, looking for Morgana. He loves his people and his land. His prejudice has blinded him and yes, he’s done terrible things, but I would prefer to start my reign peacefully and without bloodshed.”

“Arthur’s right,” Hiccup decided to add his opinion. “I know I’m an outsider here, but if I was to ask you what was the best thing for Camelot, what would you say?”

Morgause didn’t offer a verbal response, but she nodded at Hiccup, which he took as a win. Morgana seemed less resigned.

“So what way out have you thought of?”

Arthur grinned at him and Hiccup started to get a bad feeling.

“I thought,”

“No,” said Hiccup,

“That we really need an envoy to the north.”

“You’re giving us Uther?” 

“You will have our undying gratitude,” Arthur said, and bowed at him.

Hiccup was horrified. Even Astrid seemed taken aback. Valka though, she looked thoughtful and that worried Hiccup even more.

Arthur caught his eyes again.

“Hiccup?”

“You really think he’d come with us – of his own free will?”

“I hope so – especially if it was presented to him in the right way.”

“You’d have to do that, Arthur – who knows what I might end up saying.”

At his side, Astrid covered her mouth, her eyes dancing.

“I think I can manage that.” Arthur agreed.

“And what of afterwards?” Morgana asked. “Do you expect me to return to Camelot?”

Her very tone was enough of an indication as to what she thought of that and Hiccup wondered if it was because of Merlin, or because of the constraints that would be placed on her within the bounds of the Castle. He’d already seen her envious looks at Astrid and Valka, clad in breeches and leather much as he was.

Arthur bit his lip. “I’d like nothing better than to see you safely home with us, but.” He paused and then turned to Merlin. “You spoke of the Isle of the Blessed.” His direction was attracted by Morgause’s indrawn breath. “Morgause?”

“The Isle of the Blessed was where the High Priestesses worshipped and taught their craft. Uther attacked us, killed as many as he could and then razed our home almost to the ground.”

“Then let me provide you with the resources to rebuild it,” Arthur said. “And you and Morgana can teach and learn again. It’s nothing like an adequate restitution or reparation, but it will at least help to make some amends.”

“You are an honourable man, Arthur Pendragon, and I begin to believe that you are the Once and Future King promised by prophecy.” She turned and looked at Merlin. “Which makes you Emrys.”

Merlin flinched but Hiccup noticed that he didn’t deny it.

“Morgana, dearest, would that make you happy?”

It was easy to see the relief in Morgana’s eyes. “Yes,” she said. “It would.”

Arthur looked relieved and a little sad. “Then that’s settled. And please, Morgana, when we face Uther, don’t try to kill him.”

Her eyes wide, she responded with the first humour Hiccup had seen from her. “Arthur, you wound me.” And she pressed a hand to her breast.

Arthur shook his head at her, and turned his attention to Hiccup. “What do you suggest for the dragons tomorrow?”

Hiccup had already given that some thought. “We need to bring them in in waves, and while one wave is coming in some of the others can be moving on the ground. It’ll make it difficult for anyone on the castle walls to get the numbers right – plenty of confusion will help us.”

Arthur nodded. “You need to keep them out of range of the archers. I’d like to get control of Camelot without casualties.”

“If you go in first on Kilgharrah, you could stand them down.” Hiccup suggested.

Arthur bit his lip. “My father will see it as a betrayal.”

“It is a betrayal, Arthur.” Merlin’s tone was soft though his words were blunt. “I’m sorry, but that’s the position you’re in.”

Arthur scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I know. We couldn’t do this without you, Hiccup. Thank you.”

Hiccup cleared his throat. “Anything for a quiet life – though I’m not sure wishing Uther on us is something we’ll be thanking you for.”

Valka turned to look at him, and her face was thoughtful. “I don’t know, - if Arthur’s anything to go by then he’s a fine figure of a man.”

Hiccup knew his absolute horror was obvious, given the way everyone was suddenly fighting to hide their amusement.

“Well, we have a plan. We fly at dawn.” It wasn’t like Hiccup to be so assertive, but it seemed to him that everything had been agreed and there was no point in prolonging what was turning into an awkward conversation from his point of view. He ignored Arthur’s raised eyebrows and Merlin’s poorly hidden amusement and stood. Astrid, Hiccup noted, looked almost impressed and she got to her feet as well, favouring him with a smile. Hiccup might have preened a little at that.

Arthur smiled and rose as well. “As you say, Hiccup. Time for us to get some rest.”

 

**

 

Merlin found Arthur on one of the less ruined ramparts, and stood for a moment, drawing in a breath as the light of the full moon painted Arthur in silver. For a moment Arthur looked older, stern and kingly, as he stared out at the darkness, hand set on the hilt of his sword. 

A shiver ran down the length of his back, an overpowering sense of time and destiny almost overwhelming him.

“Don’t stand there getting cold.” Arthur hadn’t even turned but somehow he seemed to sense Merlin’s presence. “Come here.”

Merlin almost stumbled in his haste to reach Arthur’s side, ducking under the arm Arthur held out and resting against his side as the cloak wrapped around them both.

“It should be me saying that to you,” he grumbled, the memory of Arthur almost freezing to death rising to haunt him.

Arthur tightened his grip. “I’m fine, Merlin, stop fussing.”

Merlin grunted, but remained silent, pressing closer to Arthur and sliding an arm around his waist. He wasn’t sure what it might look like if anyone was watching, but Arthur didn’t seem inclined to hide the change in their relationship and Merlin was happy with that. He loved Arthur, and knowing his love was returned had done much to ease the pain and guilt he’d been carrying for so long. There was only one thing that still preyed on his mind.

“Do you think Morgana would ever be able to forgive me?”

“I don’t know, Merlin, she has always been one to hold grudges, but she might at least come to understand why you did what you did. She has said she’ll try and that’s a good start at least. She wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t mean it.”

“She was my friend – she is my friend – but the Knights would have killed everyone – “

“Merlin.” The chiding tone in Arthur’s voice stopped him. “You saw no other way out. I know you, you would have tried everything, done anything else, sacrificed yourself if need be, to save Morgana. I know you had no choice. If Morgana had been in the same position, I’m not so sure that it would have taken her as long to decide. One thing I know about her, she is impulsive and practical and can make difficult choices without the soul searching you go through. I hope when she considers what she knows now, she’ll at least acknowledge you had no choice.”

Merlin thought that was possibly the best he could ever hope for. 

He was surprised by Arthur’s soft chuckle. “Look.”

On another of the ramparts, Lancelot and Guinevere were standing, in much the same position as Merlin and Arthur, wrapped in Lancelot’s cloak and oblivious to the world around them.

Merlin was obscurely reassured by the soft smile. Arthur tightened his grip for a moment and then gently untangled them. “We need to sleep. Give me a few more minutes and I’ll be in.”

Somehow, Merlin recognised that this was his king speaking. He stepped out of their embrace, bowed and moved away, unaware of the surprise and pleasure on Arthur’s expression.

 

**

 

Arthur stared into the night, enjoying the wash of the moonlight on the landscape. He was not surprised when a slight figure joined him.

“You knew I was there, when you spoke to Merlin about me.”

“Of course.”

“You really think I would have been quicker to poison a friend?”

“No, Morgana, I think you would have been quicker to bow to the inevitable. It’s not quite the same thing, is it?”

There was silence, and then Morgana sighed. “Sometimes, sometimes I feel I am more like Uther than I would like to be. I berate him for being unyielding and unforgiving, and yet – “

Something eased inside Arthur at her words, at this indication of a new self-awareness in Morgana. For a moment there was a sense of some great disaster averted and he turned to face her, reaching out to grip her hands. The old Arthur wanted to tease, to default to their old relationship, but the Arthur of now, the Arthur who understood his father’s failures, Merlin’s strength and his own previous blindness, knew better.

“We have a chance now, to build a Camelot that will be strong, compassionate and fruitful, Morgana. I understand if you don’t want to return and would prefer to go to the Isle of the Blessed with Morgause, but I hope you will consider it. I would like you by my side. The people love you and you understand them in a way that escapes me. I will not marry but will need a queen. I would be proud if you would rule by my side as my sister.”

“I don’t know – “

“I don’t ask for a decision now – or even soon.”

“You would trust me?”

“I do trust you.”

Morgana’s mouth trembled, and then she squeezed his hands before releasing him and turning away.

Hoping he had done enough, Arthur spared one more look out at the silvered landscape and then followed her in. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.


	6. Chapter 6

Hiccup watched with some exasperation as a plethora of excited dragons swirled around in the air above him. Valka and Astrid were on their dragons, who were obviously as eager to get into the air. Toothless, in contrast, was still although alert, his black ears upright and an occasional shiver of tension the only movement. Morgause sat, obviously uneasy, behind Astrid, while Morgana was seated on Toothless, looking as if she was born to ride dragons. Once in a while, she reached down to pat the black hide and Toothless would flick an ear in response.

Arthur and Merlin were also still on the ground, seated on Kilgharrah but waiting for Hiccup’s direction. Hiccup had been quite surprised when Arthur had insisted that this approach to Camelot would be under Hiccup’s control. It was just a pity, thought Hiccup,, that he seemed to have absolutely no control over his excited compatriots and their friends at all.

Then he had a brainwave.

Hoping his voice sounded as if this had been his plan all along, he said:

“Kilgharrah, can you sort them out?”

The great dragon turned his head and gazed at him for a moment, before a low rumbling growl cut through the air. It wasn’t loud, but there was a reverberation to it that turned every other dragon towards them, expectant and waiting.

Hiccup, saw Arthur’s nod of approval and raised his chin. “You all know what you have to do. Make sure you all settle in sight of the walls but out of the range of the archers. On the way to Camelot, you are to stay behind me. We are not at war. This is to ensure peace between our peoples and safety for our dragons.”

A roar of agreement was his response and he leapt up onto Toothless, settling himself quickly in front of Morgana. With a slap to one shoulder, Hiccup called out. “Let’s fly!”

 

**

 

It wasn’t nearly as chaotic as Arthur had feared. His heart clenched as on the breeze he heard the alarm and cries of fear from Camelot as they approached. The northern dragons held their cohorts as they’d been instructed, but those drifted and swirled, making it difficult for anyone on the ramparts to get an accurate count. Arthur tried not to smile at Hiccup’s obvious pride. The man had no idea just how good a leader he is, he thought, and was glad that however it had happened, his father had sent him on this mad adventure. The thought of his father sobered him slightly, aware a difficult confrontation was to come. Merlin, ever attuned to his moods, squeezed his hands where they rested on Arthur’s stomach. Arthur was used to riding dragons now – he told himself – and he didn’t really need to hold on, but any chance to touch Merlin was not to be ignored. At Hiccup’s raised fist, the northern dragons held back, remaining under the command of Astrid, while Toothless and Valka on Cloudjumper, so small next to Kilgharrah, surged forward towards the castle.

From above them, Arthur called out. “Hold your fire.” Then called the order once more as a few stray arrows still targeted them. When he was sure it was safe, he asked Kilgharrah to set them down.

With a little more grace than previous attempts, and with a courteously extended forearm from the dragon, Arthur made it to the cobblestones. The captain of the guard, white-faced and obviously terrified, but resolute, strode forward and bent his knee.

“Sire, we are pleased to see you return, but we are wary of your … companions.”

Arthur wracked his mind for the man’s name. “Edryd, it is good to be home. Thank you for your welcome. I understand your need for caution but you can reassure all that the dragons are no threat to us. Please send messengers to the town and spread the word. All is well and the dragons have brought their Prince safely home. “ Arthur glanced around and frowned. “I would have expected the Knights to be here?”

“Sire – “ Edryd shifted from one foot to the other, staring at the cobbles for a moment before meeting Arthur’s gaze. “The King ordered them all to the throne room to protect him.”

Arthur reeled back and saw the man wince, wondering if his expression had so readily displayed his shock. He held up a hand and shook his head, wanting Edryd to understand that Arthur was not angry with him.

“Then I shall go there. Thank you, Edryd, for you courage. Change is coming to Camelot, Edryd, and good men will be needed within my knights. I shall speak to you again, soon.”

“But only nobles can be knights, Sire.”

Arthur reached out and clasped his shoulder, in a comrade’s grip. “Like I said, Edryd, things need to change. Many things.”

Edryd grinned at him then, before he stepped back and bowed deeply. In the next moment he turned on his heel and was bellowing orders as he moved.

“Nicely done,” Merlin’s voice was low and intimate. “And I swear he’s about three inches taller.”

Arthur elbowed him in the side, but it was gentle enough to raise a quiet chuckle.

“Are we going to the throne room?”

Hiccup appeared beside them, Morgana, Morgause and Valka behind him.

Arthur recalled Edryd’s words and felt the weight of a deep disappointment settle within him. Over the past few weeks he’d had to reassess his knowledge of his father a number of times but never, throughout it all, had he ever thought the man would turn out to be a craven coward.

“Uther has pulled all the knights to the throne room for his personal protection. Follow me.”

“Arthur.”

Arthur heard the dismay and the sympathy in Merlin’s voice, but now was not the time. Now, he had to use this new knowledge of Uther’s frailty to his advantage and he strode through the well-known, beloved corridors of his home until he could rap on the great double doors.

“Open in the name of Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot.”

There was a pause, and then the sounds of the great bars being removed. Without any sign of impatience, Arthur waited until the doors were fully opened before striding through. Just inside, he paused and turned his head, holding out his hand. In response, Morgana stepped forward to his side.

“Together, Morgana.”

There was a glimpse of the old, teasing Morgana as she dropped one eyelid in a wink. It was only then he realised someone had managed to find her breeches and a tunic. With her hair braided and coiled around her head, and a sword at her hip, she looked every inch a warrior queen.

“Shall we,” she said.

With her hand resting on his in a courtly touch, they proceeded towards the throne. Arthur was aware of Hiccup and Valka just behind them with Morgause and Merlin bringing up the rear. As they advanced, the red caped knights swept to the side, bowing low, but when they reached the throne the knights on either side of Uther did not move and their hands remained resting on the hilts of their swords.

Arthur knew them both, of course, old, grizzled men fiercely loyal to Uther and sharing his hatred of magic. Rank and privilege had given them power, power Arthur was aware they had misused. Time they were farmed out to their estates. He wanted something different for his knights. He wanted those of his existing knights, like Leon, who were honourable and just and understood what it meant to protect their people. He wanted men who came from the people as well, men like Lancelot and Edryd, like Elyan.

All of this flashed through his mind in an instant until he reached the throne and bowed low. Morgana, being Morgana, also bowed rather than drop the curtsey Uther might have expected.

“Sire, thanks to our new allies in the north, I have brought the Lady Morgana home safe and well.”

When he met his father’s eyes he could see the relief warring with the suspicion.

“I am more relieved than I can ever say to have Morgana home. These so-called new allies, Arthur, are camped in number close to our walls. You have arrived on the back of a beast that attacked us.”

“Kilgharrah is not a beast.”

Arthur felt his heart sink as Merlin stepped forward, and there was something in the set of his features that warned him Merlin was done with hiding. It hit him like lightning, everything he’d heard adding up suddenly to one inescapable fact. As Emrys and as Dragonlord, Merlin had rank enough to match Prince Arthur.

There was a nasty hiatus, but while Uther was clearly struggling with his outrage at such speech, it was Hiccup who stepped smoothly into the gap, moving forward with his characteristic gait.

Arthur levelled a straight and non-too-friendly gaze at the knight obviously sneering at Hiccup. The man flushed and looked away.

“Nor are any of our dragons. They are our friends.” There was calm decision in Hiccup’s tone. “Sire,” he managed a bow of his own before he continued. “Prince Arthur explained his quest and we were pleased to help in the search for the Lady Morgana. We only wish to live in peace and have come here to assure you of that fact.”

“In vast numbers.”

“Yes, Sire, because while we seek peace, we do not wish you to think we cannot defend ourselves. We are strong and we have prevailed in the past. We do not seek a fight but do not believe for one moment that we would shirk if you brought war to us. We offer friendship, sire, it is up to you to accept or reject that offer. For the moment I have asked the dragons to withdraw into the forest to the north. Your people will not be able to see them. I hope that will ease their minds and signal our peaceful intentions.”

Uther did not seem convinced and his attention shifted. “Morgause.” There was loathing in his voice.

“Uther Pendragon.” She gave him no title, nor did she bow and Arthur saw the reaction of the knights, their hands tightening on the hilts of their swords.

“Your allies become more difficult to explain, Arthur. You would bring a witch to my court?”

It was Morgana who responded, and with her words any hope of a peaceful end to this debate looked to be lost.

“Two witches and a warlock, actually.”

The knights stepped forward, the sound of metal unsheathed cutting through the sudden silence.

“Morgause cared for me. I assume you know she is my sister. Did you never consider that we might share a gift?” She held out a hand and spoke a few words. On her palm a fiery white dragon danced.

Uther stumbled backwards, hand to his chest, as if a sword had smote him. The knights made to advance on Morgana but Arthur and Morgause stepped forwards, their own swords out and crossing, flat sides to the knights to show they were protecting Morgana. She stood with her head held high, while the dragon took flight, swooping through the room and then exploding in a dazzling light display.

“I am afraid no longer,” she said. “While I lived in Camelot I feared for my life. Those who would have helped me were too scared. I cannot blame them for that.”

This time the dragon was red, and Arthur didn’t quite know what to think as Merlin stepped forward to stand beside Morgana, his eyes a molten gold that Arthur had discovered increased his pulse rate considerably. He swallowed.

“Prophecy speaks of Emrys, last of the Dragonlords, who was born with magic to protect the Once and Future King. I am Emrys, and it is my honour to serve Arthur Pendragon. I have been afraid and made many mistakes because I had to hide who and what I was, but I’ll hide no longer. King Uther, since I arrived in Camelot I have saved Arthur’s life – as he’s saved mine. But I have also saved your life – because Arthur loves you. He knows now why you hate magic, that you blame it for the Queen’s death, but you are wrong. Magic was not to blame. Arthur was not to blame.” His voice became very soft. “And you were not to blame.” He paused. “But you are to blame for the horror that came after. I will not allow you to condemn one more person. It ends now.”

There was a stillness, while Uther stared at them all and Arthur wondered at the way it all seemed to be spiralling out of control. For once, he was bereft of words, not sure what he could say that would not escalate matters further.

It was Hiccup who broke the deadlock, moving to stand in front of the crossed swords.

“Times have changed, King Uther, and it is time to change with them. I would welcome opening trade negotiations with Camelot. There is much you produce here that we would welcome. And we can provide you with the freshest fish you could ever imagine. Trade between us would benefit us both.”

Uther blinked, his attention taken by Hiccup’s approach and Arthur mentally blessed the Northman for changing the subject so completely, and for offering such a pragmatic topic.

There was no chance to find out how it might have progressed however, as the great doors were flung open and a guard plunged into their midst.

“There’s another army. We’re going to be attacked.”

Hiccup held up his hands. “It’s not us.”

“No, they carry the banners of Ascetir.”

“Cenred. We have been betrayed. All these fine words mean nothing.” Uther’s colour was hectic, and the alarm spread, the knights standing by Uther moving menacingly forward.

“I will have silence now.” Arthur did not speak loudly, but he put all the power and majesty he could into his tone. Somehow it seemed to reverberate, and he would have accused Merlin of some sorcery if he had not been startled by the look of awe Merlin turned to him.

Silence fell.

“What do we know?” Arthur asked into the sudden calm.

Morgause answered. “I was treating with Cenred. My plan was to get Morgana into the Castle and she would raise an army of the dead. I told him to wait and that I’d contact him. I haven’t had time to tell him it was no longer my wish to take Camelot. He must have grown impatient.”

“You witch, you have betrayed us.”

Arthur moved towards Uther and one of the knights challenged him. For a moment, Arthur thought he was going to have to fight his way through but it was Uther himself who intervened.

“You do not raise your sword against the Crown Prince.”

The knight bowed and stood aside, but he was scowling.

Arthur kept his voice low. “Sire, we are at a crossroads here. Hiccup is right – it’s time for change. My advice is to ally with the dragons and with magic and show Cenred that Camelot is strong.” He could see the objections. “I know you don’t want to do this, but you know as well as I do that Camelot has been failing. And you know why.”

Uther was staring at him as if he’d never seen him before, the expressions flashing across his face.

“You are right, Arthur. It is time for change.”

“Then you will ally with the dragons, and magic?”

“No, Arthur, I will not. Step back a moment.”

Perplexed, Arthur did as he was bid. Uther stood and looked out at the crowd. There was utter silence as the knights and many of the nobles who had slipped into the room waited to hear what would happen next.

“My people. Over twenty years I have served you and sought to keep you safe from harm. And yet here I am, when my lands are threatened, surrounding myself with knights instead of leading them into battle. Times are changing and as they do, so must the leadership of this land.

By the power invested in me, I hereby renounce the crown of Camelot and cede it, full willingly, to my son, Arthur Pendragon. He will lead you all with wisdom, strength and compassion and I will continue to be as proud of him now as I have been since the day of his birth.”

With that, he removed the crown from his own head and motioned Arthur to kneel. In a daze, Arthur did so, feeling the weight of it settle on his head and knowing a different weight too, the weight of responsibility, for his people and his land. Uther raised him up and kissed him on each cheek and his next words were quiet, for Arthur alone.

“My son, this is not an easy burden but you are more than ready. Today, in stark relief I have seen myself as others see me – a tyrant, a coward. You have good people around you already. Never forget to let them disagree with you. My blessings go with you. Your Mother would have been so proud – as I am.”

He stepped back and dropped to one knee. Then looked up at Arthur and with pride in his voice, he cried out.

“Long live the King.”

Arthur stared at his father, and then looked up at the hall. Everyone was joining in the call, dropping to one knee or curtseying deeply. Morgause and Morgana both looked stunned, but there was a fierce exultation in Morgana’s face as she met his gaze for a brief moment before going to one knee. Of all things he had expected this day, such obeisance from Morgana would never have been amongst them. His eyes moved to Merlin, who was still standing, and Arthur gasped at the triumph in his expression, the joy and love and pride so clear to see. In the next instant, Merlin’s voice joined the call, louder and clearer than any other, and then he sank to one knee and bowed his head.

No. That was wrong.

Arthur smiled down at his father, not missing the relief in the man’s face and filed that away to think on later. Then he stepped from the podium and took Merlin’s hand.

“Emrys bows to no man,” He spoke steadily but with strength, and the cheering stopped. Looking around at his subjects, he catalogued many expressions, and knew some among them would not necessarily be his friends. No matter. He had lived and worked in this court all his life. He knew the measure of every person in this hall and would act accordingly.

Merlin stumbled as he got to his feet, and he blinked rapidly.

Arthur leaned forward and murmured into his ear. “You are my equal, Merlin, now don’t be a girl.”

Merlin’s eyes sparkled and he whispered back. “Shall I tell Morgana and Morgause you say that to me?”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “I’ll deal with you later,” and there was the richness of a delicious promise in his tone. “For now, we have a job to do. Are you with me?”

“Until the end of time.”

It was an oath, and they both knew it. In full view of the room, Arthur reached forward and pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, before he pulled him with him onto to dais.

“My father has passed the sovereignty of this country to me. You all know my measure and the love I have for Camelot and my people. My father taught me that and taught me well.” He paused to turn and bow to Uther. “It is time for change and it starts now. We will face Cenred. He will see Hiccup, leader of the north, he will see Emrys, Dragonlord, he will see Morgause, High Priestess from the Isle of the Blessed and he will see me, Arthur, King of Camelot. We will give him the opportunity to withdraw, and he will do so because he will know he cannot prevail against such an alliance – people, dragons and magic – all together they make us strong again.

I ask you now. Will you stand with me and fight for a new Camelot?”

A roar went up from the room, though Arthur was aware of those who seemed less pleased, those who were edging their way out already. It didn’t matter, they would soon be gone and he could deal with them another time.

Hiccup and Morgause joined them on the dais and with another glance, Arthur ensured that Morgana stood at his other side.

“Do you want Kilgharrah?” Merlin asked.

“No, I think we’ll hold him in reserve just in case. Cenred’s a coward and a bully at heart – when he sees our strength he won’t dare risk it. Hiccup, could Toothless and Cloudjumper take us?”

“No problem,” Hiccup beamed at him.

“Morgause, would you be able to tell us exactly where Cenred is?”

“I could scry easily, yes.”

“Good, then this is what we’re going to do.”

 

**

 

Cenred’s guard called out a warning, drawing Cenred from his tent.

“What is it?” he demanded.

The guard pointed, wild-eyed.

A little way from the camp, a young man, dressed in rough clothing, was standing close to a group of trees. By his side was a black beast, the like of which Cenred had never seen. It had a comical look and Cenred snorted. He was more concerned by the figures in the background, which included Morgause. He scowled. The red-cloaked figure in the centre was Arthur Pendragon, and he knew Morgana but the peasant beside Arthur was unknown to him, and this upstart with a strange beast in tow was another stranger.

“He wants to talk to you. Says he’s an envoy from Camelot.”

Cenred called to some of his knights and swaggered out to face this strange intruder.

When they were close enough to hear one another without shouting, Cenred stopped.

“Hi there, are you Cenred?”

One of the knights beside him coughed, obviously hiding laughter and Cenred made a mental note to deal with him later. He could see the amusement in the rest of the party, too and it did nothing to ease his temper.

“I am Cenred, King of Ascetir. What pit did Uther drag you and your pet out from?”

The black beast, which had been sitting on its haunches dropped down onto its forelegs and extended its head, fixing Cenred with a baleful, yellow gaze. It took every ounce of grit Cenred possessed not to copy the actions of his guard as they all took a collective step backwards.

“Oh, you know, we just came for a visit. I’m Hiccup and this is Toothless.”

“Toothless?” Cenred snorted in derision. “So I –“

He stopped in his mocking, mainly because Toothless was suddenly grinning at him with a mouth full of wicked teeth.”

Hiccup ignored the interruption, his voice clear. “We’re here with a message from Arthur, King of Camelot.”

A ripple of surprise washed through the knights and Cenred felt it extend to the camp, close enough to be in earshot. It was only then that Cenred noticed Arthur was crowned. As he stared, Arthur inclined his head and the sunlight caught the precious stones, sparkling and defiant.

“Be it known, this day Uther Pendragon abdicated his throne and passed his crown full willingly to Arthur, the Once and Future King of Prophecy. By his side stands Emrys, the last of the Dragonlords, the Lady Morgana and the Lady Morgause, High Priestesses of the Isle of the Blessed. And they have entered into alliance with the dragons and dragonriders of the north. That’s us,” he elaborated helpfully. “Magic has returned to Camelot.”

Cenred was stunned into silence, and could almost feel his troops begin to melt away. Morgause had abandoned him and he was sensible enough to know that without her help he was doomed to fail in this enterprise.

“King Arthur offers you this one opportunity, to withdraw peacefully and without harming a single hair on the head of any of his subjects or damage to their property. In the fullness of time, he will arrange to treat with you to decide how you will offer reparations for this clear violation of Camelot’s borders.”

Red fury swept across Cenred’s vision and his sword was clear of his scabbard before he’d thought through his actions. The knight who’d stifled laughter earlier grabbed his arm and stayed his initial charge on this peasant.

“Sire, he is here under truce – you cannot –“

With a roar, Cenred turned on him. The knight’s sword was sheathed and it would have been a quick end had it not been for Toothless. With a speed that surpassed anything anyone there had seen, other than Hiccup, Toothless had moved. Cenred was on his back and one great paw was planted firmly on his chest. Hiccup walked forward and offered the knight, who’d also fallen, a hand up, nearly pulled over by the bulk of the man.

“King Arthur offers a place in his Knights for those who can meet his standards. If you wish to consider this, then report to Camelot in a seven day and you will be tested.

For now, you are ordered to leave Camelot. Remember, Cenred, you are allowed to leave this day by King Arthur’s clemency and good grace, but you will have to account for your actions. My cohorts of dragons will watch you from above as you leave and any attempt to cause harm will remove all protection from you.

Remember always, Cenred, Camelot is strong. Camelot is protected. Do not return.”


	7. Chapter 7

Hiccup was pleased with himself. It wasn’t every day he was asked to be the envoy of a king, and a king like Arthur – a man of legend, it seemed. He grinned as Toothless made a showy swoop over the courtyard walls and dropped down next to Kilgharrah and Cloudjumper. Poor Morgause squeaked in alarm but Morgana laughed aloud. Valka had arrived back before him and the King was leaning against the great dragon’s side, something Hiccup thought Kilgharrah was none too pleased about, but as Merlin was right alongside his king, Hiccup guessed he wasn’t being given the option to complain.

Astrid reached him first and he suffered her trademark greeting, a kiss followed by a punch to the arm.

“Ow,” he said, before he caught her around the waist, swinging her into a proper kiss. When he set her down everyone was grinning, and even Uther, standing to the side a little like a spectre at the feast and well out of reach of the great dragon, seemed amused.

“Are they leaving?” Arthur asked.

“They’re packing their camp up and Cenred has already gone. I’ve got teams keeping them in sight the whole way. They’ll drop down from time to time just to make sure they know they’re still being watched.”

“Excellent. Thank you for your help, Hiccup.”

“Any time. It was fun.”

“Sire,” A guard interrupted them. He glanced a little nervously at Uther, who gestured him towards Arthur.

“Edryd, what can I do for you?”

“In all the commotion, we found a man rifling through the vaults.” He gestured and two of his men pulled a slim, dark-haired man forward.

“Julius Borden?” Gaius shouldered his way through the crowd.

“You know this man, Gaius?”

“He was a pupil of mine many years ago – until I realised all his quest for knowledge related to his ability to make money. I don’t know what he might have been looking for but I’ll wager he’s up to no good.”

“Gaius, you wound me.”

The man had a deep, pleasant voice, but there was something in it that Hiccup innately distrusted. Toothless rumbled beside him, ears flat back. Borden sidled further away.

“He had this.” Edryd held out a metal object and Arthur took it with an absent thanks and handed it to Gaius.

Hiccup was surprised at the reaction as Gaius visibly paled. Merlin hurried over.

“Gaius?” There was concern in his voice.

“I’m fine, my boy, don’t fret. This is the key to the Tomb of Ashkanar. It was split into three parts to ensure the safety of what is held in that Tomb. Thank the gods we stopped you, Borden. Had you travelled to the Tomb, it would have been to your death.”

“You underestimate me, Gaius, you always did.”

“No, your ambition and arrogance have always outstripped your intelligence.”

There was a short pause while everyone appreciated how much disdain Gaius could inject into one short reprimand. Borden flushed.

“Only one man has the right to enter the Tomb of Ashkanar. Only one man would be able to survive its trials. Merlin, this belongs to you.”

He held it out for Merlin to take but to Hiccup’s horror, Toothless darted forward and swallowed it.

“Toothless! What are you doing? Give it back.” Toothless wriggled and stared at him, then butted Merlin. Not content with that, he turned a fathomless gaze on the Lady Morgana. When no-one moved, he repeated the motions, and this time pressed a gentle head against Morgana.”

It was Arthur who broke the deadlock, and to Hiccup’s relief he sounded amused rather than angry. “It would appear Toothless has a plan.” Toothless spared him a quick grin and then turned back to Morgana.”

“I do not understand.” They all turned to look at Kilgharrah. “I believe the Tomb of Ashkanar holds hope for the future of my kind, but what do the dragons of the north know of this? And why would he want Morgana to go?”

“I don’t know,” said Merlin, “but I think the only way to find out is to go. Would Toothless carry three of us?”

“Easily.”

“Lady Morgana, if you are willing we can travel to the Tomb of Ashkanar.”

“I would take you there.”

Merlin paused to set a hand to Kilgharrah’s snout. “No, old friend, I need you here. I ask you, I do not command, but I need to know Arthur will be safe. With you here, no-one will dare to attempt to harm him.”

“I can look after myself, you know?”

“I know,” Merlin reached out and took Arthur’s hand, kissing it. “Just humour me, though?”

Arthur sighed, apparently hard put upon although his eyes were twinkling.

“Very well, but return as soon as you are able. And you can wait ten minutes until some supplies can be found for you. Hiccup, are you willing to go with them?”

“Of course,” Hiccup loved adventures and in the background he could see Astrid rolling her eyes. He turned his attention to Arthur, who was looking at Morgana. She in turn had her gaze fixed on Merlin. He looked up and caught her gaze, starting, his cheeks becoming red, but he met her eyes dead on.

“You are safe with me, Morgana. Even if I wanted to harm you, you know Hiccup and Toothless would never allow it.”

Morgana sighed and traded a look with Arthur. “I know it Merlin – I even believe it.”

She turned away before he could react and walked across to her sister. Hiccup watched as Arthur pressed a hand to Merlin’s shoulder.

“What should we do with Borden, Sire?” Edryd had approached Arthur.

Arthur looked across at the disgruntled captive. “Oh, throw him in a dungeon for now. I’m sure I’ll think of something to do with him in the next year or so.”

Borden was dragged away, screeching in horror, but Hiccup had seen Arthur’s wink at Edryd. It would do the thief no harm to think himself doomed for a few days.

For the next few minutes all degenerated into bustle and milling people, and Hiccup caught occasional glances of faces he knew. Uther stayed at the side and Hiccup saw his mother join him. Valka gestured at Toothless and Uther, though rather stiff in manner, stooped a little and listened courteously enough.

The black bulk of Toothless, now loaded with gear, got in the way and pushed at him impatiently.

“Yes, all right, we’re ready.” He hopped up and strapped himself in, offering a hand to Morgana as she nimbly joined him, settling in behind him. They watched as Arthur and Merlin clasped hands briefly and Hiccup almost laughed aloud as Morgana snorted.

Merlin broke away from Arthur and climbed up. As soon as he was – mostly – settled, Toothless leapt upwards and they took their leave to cheers from below that covered the sound of Merlin’s outraged shriek.

“You’d better stay low,” Hiccup warned, as he felt the muscles tense beneath him, and then they were off.

Morgana and Merlin both let out whoops of delight as Toothless sped away, and though Morgana’s grip around Hiccup tightened, he knew neither of them were afraid. They sped through the air at a terrific rate and Hiccup wondered how Toothless knew where to go. Yet it seemed clear he did and all they could do was hold on as they flew into the dimming light, the darkness and the dawn. Toothless stopped briefly to let them eat, and to wrap themselves up in the furs stowed as part of their equipment, and then he flew through the night.

The sun was a red disc in the east, casting long shadows on the ground below them when Hiccup pointed ahead. The tallest tower he’d ever seen, he thought, etched against the sky. He didn’t try to speak, knowing the wind would tear his words to tatters before they could reach his companions’ ears, but it didn’t really matter because the sight before them was something neither of them could miss.

Toothless circled round and then brought them down carefully as close as he could. They slipped down his side and onto the ground, all of them a little unsteady as they found their feet once more.

Hiccup stared upwards at the tall tower. “Do you know what’s in there?”

“Gaius told me what he believes. All the lore he knows says that Ashkanar had a dragon’s egg. One of the last Great Dragon eggs.” Merlin moved to stand by him. “Toothless knows, though I don’t know how.”

Hiccup glanced at Toothless, who was doing his best to look innocent – and failing. Then he opened his mouth and out shot the key.

“I often think Toothless always knows a great deal more than he ever lets on. You’re not fooling me, you know.” He thumped the black hide fondly and Toothless reciprocated with a slap of an ear.

Morgana joined them. “Is it really going to be as easy as putting a key in a lock?”

“I doubt it, but we’re not going to find out by standing here.”

They all looked at the damp, glistening key. Morgana narrowed her eyes.

“Merlin, I’ll have that monstrosity you tie round your neck, please.”

Merlin opened his mouth to complain, took one look at Morgana, and untied it quickly. She stepped forward and picked up the key, drying it swiftly and then, with a smug smile, handed the neckerchief back to Merlin.

Merlin grimaced and shoved it in his pocket.

“Let’s go.”

It seemed like Morgana had taken charge and there was clearly no way Merlin was going to challenge her. Hiccup turned to Toothless.

“You stay here, fella.”

In response, Toothless slumped onto the ground, showed his prodigious set of teeth in a wide yawn, and shut his eyes.

Hiccup chuckled and, ignoring the obvious tension between his travelling companions, he led the way up the rise to the tower.

They had to fight their way through the undergrowth and it wasn’t until Morgana tartly reminded Merlin that he had magic and should use it, that their pace increased. Merlin whispered a word, and Hiccup couldn’t quite contain his gasp as his eyes flooded with gold for a moment. He gasped again when a path opened up in the vegetation.

“What spell did you use?” demanded Morgana. “Would I be able to do it?”

Discreetly, Hiccup moved until he was following them, listening with half an ear as Merlin spoke, first haltingly and then with more confidence, about how his magic worked. Before long, Morgana was interrupting with questions and Merlin was offering advice until at the next stand of tangled briars, Merlin stood to the side and waited until Morgana made the attempt.

She used the same words Merlin had, but for the first, second, third and fourth time nothing happened and she was clearly becoming frustrated.

“I once stayed up all night trying to get a spell right to turn a stone dog into a real one.” Merlin said, eventually.

“Is that supposed to help in some way?”

Hiccup took a step back. Morgana in a snit was scary.

“I’m just saying it’s not easy and you need the practice and instruction. We both do, really. There’s been no-one to teach us. Your magic has come to you recently and much of your power lies in Seeing. I was born with magic and still get spells wrong. It will come, Morgana.”

She had turned to face Merlin while he spoke.

“When we went with you to Ealdor that time. If you’d gone yourself you could have dealt with the bandits easily, couldn’t you?”

“Not without giving myself away,” Merlin was quick to contradict her and Hiccup wondered what had happened. “Arthur gave the villagers so much more when he taught them how to organise and protect themselves. I couldn’t always be there, but now they can look after themselves. You don’t know what it meant to me that you and Arthur and Gwen came to help.”

Morgana’s expression was giving nothing away, but the tension in her frame seemed to have eased a little. She turned back to the bushes and said the spell once more. Her eyes flared gold and the bushes stirred, giving a foot or two.

“You see,” Merlin seemed delighted by her success. “You just need to practice.”

“Yes, and you’re going to help me. But for now, we don’t have the time to waste. Let’s get on.”

She gestured regally and Hiccup almost laughed aloud at the eagerness with which Merlin complied.

The key with its linked triskelions fitted easily into the lock and the huge doors they had finally reached swung open without a sound.

“It can’t be this easy,” Hiccup muttered aloud. “It’s never this easy.”

As he spoke, he noticed a strange mist. “Cover your face,” he yelled, and threw himself at Morgana and Merlin, pulling them to the floor. There were several confused moments as they all went down in a tangle of limbs and they watched, mouths and noses well-covered, until the cloud dissipated.

Eventually, when the air seemed completely clear, Hiccup took a deep breath. “Seems okay,” he said, and began clambering carefully to his feet. “I knew it couldn’t be that easy.”

“I wonder what else is waiting for us.” Merlin said.

“Well. We’re not going to find out standing here.”

From Merlin’s rolling eyes, Hiccup guessed this wasn’t an unexpected response from Morgana, and they trailed after her. Merlin grabbed a torch from the wall sconce and lit it with a word as they worked their way onwards.

They ended up in a vast chamber, empty apart from one plinth set in the centre of the room. On the plinth, glowing softly, was a huge, beautiful, oval egg.

“Look, oh, look at it.”

Morgana’s tone was expressing the awe Hiccup was feeling at the sight and when he looked at Merlin he could see tears in his eyes.

Ignoring Merlin’s cry of warning, Morgana darted forward and gathered up the egg. In the next instant they were all stock-still, as the building rumbled around them.

“It’s a trap.”

Hiccup wanted to snark about people stating the obvious but was too busy joining Merlin in his race across the room to Morgana. Never mind the fact the building seemed to be about to collapse around them, at this particular moment, the ground was opening under Morgana’s feet.

Merlin reached her first, just as she dropped and he threw himself to the floor and wrapped his arms around her waist. Hiccup was not far behind him.

“Take the egg, Hiccup.”

For a moment Hiccup thought Morgana would not let him take it, and then he saw her good sense overcome her fear. Carefully, he gathered it to him, curling over it protectively as dust and small pieces of mortar began to rain down on them.

With an almost absent look above him, he heard Merlin speak.

“Scield.”

To match the gold flare of his eyes, there was a golden, shimmering dome above them.

Morgana, her arms free, wrapped them around Merlin’s shoulders so he could gradually wriggle backwards until they were well clear. She gasped aloud when she happened to glance down and saw the abyss that had opened up beneath her.

More stonework rained down and Merlin’s shield wavered. Hiccup noted with alarm how white he was.

“We need to go – now.” He urged them onwards and they stumbled, the floor like the deck of a ship in a storm as the building shook itself apart. They burst out into the courtyard and there stood Toothless, eyes wide and hopping from foot to foot in alarm. Hiccup held out the egg and Toothless stilled, then accepted it in one great paw. It would be safe there. Merlin had already clambered aboard and Hiccup all but threw Morgana up. She looked to be at the end of her strength and Hiccup recalled that she had been ill for some time. He hopped up and strapped himself in as Toothless took off and streaked away. He turned when he was clear and they watched as the tower crumbled and dropped, leaving nothing but a crater. He shivered.

“Take us back to Camelot, Toothless.”

The journey back was more leisurely and they stopped a couple of times to rest. Morgana was silent, Merlin seemed exhausted, but Hiccup saw the way they were watching one another, careful in their interactions, and courteous of one another. Gone was Morgana’s hard edge when she addressed Merlin, and gone was the miasma of guilt that had seemed to suffuse all of Merlin’s interactions with her.

Hiccup was feeling quite cheerful by the time he saw Camelot’s walls ahead of them. A dragon sunning itself on the ramparts came to meet them and then sped off again, and by the time they set down gently in the courtyard, there was a fair deputation waiting.

Arthur and Morgause were quick to help Morgana down, but it was Sir Leon who strode forward and caught her up in his arms as her legs buckled under her.

Oh, hello, thought Hiccup, and he winked across at Astrid. She was looking as unconcerned about his safety as she always did, and now she folded her arms and scowled. It was how he knew she loved him.

His attention returned to Arthur and Merlin, and he wondered if the air temperature had actually increased from the heated looks they exchanged. From a distance, it looked like a warriors greeting as they gripped arms, elbow to elbow, but they were standing so close and their expressions told another story entirely.

“You have the egg?” Arthur asked eventually.

Hiccup turned to Toothless, who opened his paw. Merlin stepped forward and offered Toothless a short bow before reaching out and carefully picking it up. Toothless, Hiccup thought, looked distinctly smug.

“Where is Kilgharrah?”

“He said he would return when you called. I don’t think he really likes being so close to the Castle.”

“Well that’s understandable.” Merlin hesitated and Hiccup stayed close, wondering what was to come.

“Tonight I’ll take the egg out to the field where I meet Kilgharrah and ask him what we need to do to care for it. I’d like Morgana to go with me.”

“Why Morgana?”

“I’m not sure, if I’m honest, but it feels right. It feels like – like the egg wants her there.” He finished in a rush and Hiccup saw the moment Arthur wanted to mock him and how swiftly he caught himself.

“If that’s what you think is right, Dragonlord,” he said, his voice a soft, intimate caress that had Hiccup sidling away in embarrassment, “then that is what will happen.”

 

**

 

When Morgana came around, it was to find Gaius sitting at one side of her, Morgause the other, and Sir Leon propped against the door, arms folded and wrapped in a brooding silence.

“What happened?” she asked, struggling to sit upright.

Sir Leon was there in a moment, sliding an impersonal arm around her shoulders to raise her up while the others slotted pillows into place. When she was settled Morgause handed her a cup of warm sweet cider and she sipped in appreciatively, sparing a smile of thanks for Leon. She wondered why this would cause him to blush and followed his retreat as he took up his station at the door once again.

“According to Hiccup you had rather a close shave, my dear.” Gaius said. “Morgause tells me you’ve been weak for some time and she did not have the tinctures and mendicants she needed. You had been through a trying experience and your body did the best thing it could for you. Now you need to rest and recover. We’ll soon have you back to full strength.”

There was a question burning in Morgana’s heart. “Did you know I had magic?”

Gaius seemed to age in an instant and he sighed.

“Yes, I knew. I tried to use the potions to suppress it, to give you ease. I was afraid – “

“For yourself?” asked Morgause, her tone waspish.

“Partly, yes, I will admit to that, but mostly for Morgana. Merlin wanted to tell you and to tell you about his own magic, but I counselled him against it. I am sorry, Morgana. Even now, I’m not sure whether I was right or wrong in that, but I should not have kept the knowledge of your own gift from you.”

“No, you should not,” she turned away from him and fixed her eyes on Morgause. “None of you have accorded me the honesty I was due. None of you. I’d like to be alone, for a time, please.”

She heard the door open, and then Leon’s voice. “I will be outside if you have need of anything, My Lady.”

A rush of gratitude washed over her for his gentle, steadfast care.

For a while she dozed, warm, clean and comfortable for the first time in what felt like an age. When she felt more awake, she ate the small meal that had been left by the bed and settled in to think.

It was not all edifying, having to address some of her own failings as well as those of the people around her. The one person, she acknowledged, who had never let her down, was Arthur. He was a King she could accept, seeing how much he loved his people and they him. He had stood by her, supported her, even when she had gone against his own Father. Arthur would do what was right.

Inevitably thoughts of Arthur segued into thoughts of Merlin, the serving boy who was no such thing. In their travel to secure the dragon’s egg she had seen another side to him. It had made her look past the crime he’d admitted, the guilt she could see he carried, to the power and resolute strength beneath. Now she considered his story, looking at events from his point of view and she wondered how he’d remained hidden for so long. She’d said she would consider how to get past her anger, offering that up at a time where she’d felt it almost impossible. Merlin had saved her life in the Tomb, and she shuddered at the memory of the chasm that had opened under her feet. It was odd she had no doubt he would have fallen with her, rather than let her go. That was the Merlin she remembered; the person who would do anything to help a friend. The Merlin she knew now was tempered by experience, as was she, and not much of it over the past few years had been good – for either of them.

This was a crossroads, she understood. Whatever happened now was her choice, no-one was manipulating her or keeping secrets from her. She could choose bitterness or she could choose to acknowledge that wrongs had been done and move on. Unaccountably her thoughts turned to Leon, and she smiled.

She was roused later by the sounds of agitated whispering outside the room.

“Who is it?” she called.

Leon’s head appeared round the door. “It’s Merlin, My Lady.”

“Let him in.”

Merlin slid round Leon and then hovered at the door.

“You’d better sit down.” Morgana was beginning to be annoyed by the hang-dog attitude he displayed every time he was around her. Other than when they had been discussing magic, it seemed to have become his usual mien. Gods, she was so tired of it all.

“Get me some water before you do, would you?” She wasn’t sure where it came from, but as soon as she spoke the words she know it was the one thing she could do to signal clearly that this episode was done.

Merlin paused and his mouth worked for a moment, before he detoured to the bench and poured water into a goblet. When he reached the bed he bowed and handed it to her, and then sat.

Carefully and, if she was honest, not without the tiniest misgiving, she took a deep draught of the water. It slid cool and refreshing down her throat.

“Why did you want to see me?”

“I’m going to take the egg to Kilgharrah tonight. I think you should be there.”

“Me? Why?”

“I think the egg is important to you. I don’t know why but I feel it – don’t you?”

She hadn’t been able to explain the sense of joy and gladness she’d felt at the sight of the egg, but nodded now. “Where are we going?”

“Not far. Arthur will come and Hiccup and Toothless as well as they were there when we found the egg. Toothless seems to understand more than we do, too, though what and how I don’t know.” Merlin shrugged. “We’ll see if Kilgharrah has anything to say, though he’s cryptic at the best of times.”

“There’s so much we don’t know,” Morgana said and at Merlin’s enquiring look she continued. “All the knowledge that’s been lost. We should have been taught, you and I, shouldn’t we? Not just about how to use our gifts, but about the things we shouldn’t do. Oh stop that.”

Merlin’s hangdog look was back, but it morphed into shock at her admonition.

“It’s done, Merlin. You saved my life today, remember. Let that cancel out the past and let’s start again.”

“I’d like that.” His voice wobbled.

“Don’t cry, either, or Arthur will be annoyed.”

“Not crying, I’ve just got something in my eye.”

He scrubbed his arm across his face and then grinned at her – bright and bold. The Merlin she remembered.

“It’s true though,” he said. “Children are going to keep being born with magic and there needs to be some way to help them. We should talk to the Druids first. And I’ll bet there are books in Geoffrey’s library. There’s no way he would have destroyed books if he could help it.”

“I was going to travel to the Isle of the Blessed with Morgause but perhaps, perhaps I should stay here to help?”

“That would be good - there’s so much to be done, but it will be wonderful. I know it will.”

They grinned at one another, in complete accord and were deep in discussion when Arthur entered. He looked uneasily at them as they both smiled up at him.

“I don’t know why, but the sight of the two of you smiling is distinctly unnerving.”

Merlin bounded to his feet, arms flailing as he launched into an explanation. Arthur caught his hands.

“You can tell me later, Merlin. Hiccup is waiting and Toothless is getting restless.” He squeezed Merlin’s hands and released them, stepping forward and offering an arm to Morgana.

Typical courtliness, she thought, and was about to tease him until she looked closely at him and realised suddenly that he was exhausted. Merlin, too, was pale. So she graced him with another small smile and got up using the help she didn’t need.

“Shall we?” she said, and swept out of the room, casting a grateful smile and the press of a hand to Leon as they left. She ignored Arthur’s low chuckle.

In the courtyard dusk was falling and Toothless was dancing from foot to foot. Hiccup was already aloft, a carefully wrapped bundle in front of him.

Arthur paused. “Will he be able to carry all four of us?”

“It’s a short hop,” Hiccup assured them. “It should be fine.”

Toothless stilled and turned his head to stare at Arthur for a moment, before slapping him with an ear.

“I was just thinking of you, Toothless. You’ve had a busy few days.”

This time the slap was gentle and then Toothless looked pointedly at his back.

They all clambered on, Astrid and Morgause looking on. Morgause did not look particularly happy and Morgana smiled at her, hoping her own ease would transfer to her sister.

In the next instant they were airborne and sailing over the ramparts. Toothless stayed low and took his time, but even so it was a flight of only a few minutes before they were landing softly in a meadow of soft grass and wildflowers.

In the dusk they could see Kilgharrah’s bulk and together they walked towards him.

Merlin accepted the egg from Hiccup and placed it on a tree stump in front of the dragon.

“It seems I am not the last of my kind, after all, Merlin. Thank you all.”

“What happens? When will it hatch?” Merlin asked.

“Only a Dragonlord can call a Great Dragon from the shell. You must find its name, Merlin and it will come.”

“How do I do that?”

“You are a Dragonlord.”

“I see what you mean,” Morgana muttered.

Merlin spared her a smile and then all his attention was on the egg. Morgana peered at it, too, seeing the pulse of light deep within and feeling a pull she could not explain.

Arthur and Hiccup had remained with Toothless, and she could feel their presence in the background. It was a reassurance, something she would never have believed scant days before.

Merlin took a deep breath and then spoke, his voice resonating in a way she had never heard. It seemed to shiver through the very earth and Toothless rumbled, while Kilgharrah shifted. It was an undeniable call.

“Aithusa.”

The light within the egg brightened, and then it shook. Within moments the first crack appeared. Morgana was panting, as if she had run in some mad race, and they were all transfixed as the shell parted and fell away to leave a pure white dragon. Tiny and fine, she looked. How did I know it’s a she?

She chirruped at them spinning to look at Kilgharrah and then Merlin. Then her eyes fixed on Morgana and in that look, Morgana was lost.

“Aithusa,” she said.

Aithusa hopped off the tree trunk and with a squawk ended up on her nose. Morgana hurried forward and helped her up, cooing in a way that, had she considered it, badly unnerved Arthur and Merlin.

With another hop, Aithusa had settled onto Morgana’s shoulder, tail curling around her neck, snuffling softly into her hair.

Morgana stood upright, careful and with one hand helping to hold Aithusa in place. Stunned, she stared around at them all.

They were all smiling.

Kilgharrah’s voice cut through the oncoming night. “A good omen for Camelot. The white dragon has chosen you, Morgana, and I see you have chosen Camelot. The future shifts and changes. I see peace and plenty. I see magic at the heart of Camelot. All will be well and Arthur will reach his destiny. It is a time that will become legend and myth. Those that live through it are blessed. Aithusa will grow swiftly and will require instruction. Will you help her, Morgana?”

“ I will.” It was a vow.

Kilgharrah inclined his head and then with one upsweep of his wings, he was gone.

“Is anyone else hungry? I’m starving?” Hiccup’s prosaic comment broke the hiatus and they all laughed.

“This little one is hungry, too.” Morgana said. “Let’s go home.”

 

**

 

Merlin was standing at the window in Arthur’s room when he finally returned. The nobles and some of the knights were less than happy with the first few days of Arthur’s reign, and he had spent some time in discussions with them. He was tired and more than a little irritated but the sight of Merlin turning to face him pleased him and he met Merlin’s smile with one of his own.

“At last,” said Merlin, moving across to the tub and passing his hand across it with a whispered word and a flash of golden eyes. Immediately, steam arose and Arthur sighed with gratitude.

Quickly he undressed and slid into the hot water with a groan.

“Why don’t you join me?”

“Really?”

“Really. Right now. This moment.”

Merlin chuckled and in seconds was sliding into the water behind Arthur. He pulled Arthur back to rest against his chest and wrapped strong arms around him.

Arthur sighed and leaned back, and for a long time there was silence.

Typically, it was Merlin who eventually spoke.

“Did you deal with them all?”

“Not really. I calmed them down but it will take time. Once my father has left they won’t be able to badger him to take back the crown.”

“I was a bit surprised, when he abdicated.”

“Surprise was the least of it. I would never have believed it.”

“Have you spoken to him about it?”

“We broke our fast together this morning. He said he’s had his time, and that’s as far as he’ll go. I think he began to realise just how wrong he was, but he’s never going to admit it. This way, he gets an honourable way out and will never have to face up to what he’s done.”

He was glad that Merlin didn’t respond, other than to sweep a hand up and down his chest.

“They’ve sent up some soup and bread. It’s keeping warm by the fire.”

“Enough for two.”

“Oddly enough, yes.”

Arthur managed a tired chuckle and caught Merlin’s hand. “Stay with me tonight?”

“I’ll stay with you until you send me away.”

“Forever, then,” Arthur said, as he closed his eyes.

 

**

 

“Oh, we have got to get one of these.” Hiccup stared in awe at the biggest bed he’d ever seen. It had curtains hanging from the four posts and the mattress was covered in rich furs and blankets. His eyes widened further at the food laid out on the table, some of which he didn’t even recognise. To cap it all off, there was a large tub, which servants were busy filling with hot water.

Gwen had led them here, and she giggled at his reaction. “Arthur hopes you’ll be comfortable. He says we’ve all had a tiring few days so there will be no alarum sounded in the morning. He bids you sleep well and hopes you will join him at lunch to begin discussing trade.” With that, she shooed the servants out, kissed Astrid on the cheek (to Hiccup’s amazement) and exited into the corridor where Lancelot, calm and patient, was waiting for her. With a final grin and her eyes sparkling, Gwen closed the door and left them alone.

“Look at that bath. C’mon Astrid.” He began to divest himself of his clothes and turned round to see her with her hands on her hips and lips pursed.

“Astrid?”

“I’m going to say this once. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

“Huh?”

“I’m proud of you. “ With a dark look, daring him to comment, she began to undress.

His love for her nearly overwhelmed him and he reached out, stilling her busy hands. He didn’t speak, just kissed her gently and then released her. By the time they made it into the tub, they were play-fighting and giggling.

 

**

 

Gwaine was happy enough, he decided, at a good table in the tavern with his new friends and a couple of friendly miniature dragons keeping him company. Percival glanced across at him and shook his head in amusement. The rest of the inn’s regulars were casting surreptitious glances in their direction and becoming bolder as they night went on and the levels of ale consumed grew.

“What are your plans now?” he asked Percival.

Percival smiled at him, still nursing the first drink Gwaine had bought him. Gwaine had sunk his first tankard in one swallow, followed by a satisfied burp and two more had gone the way of the first speedily. His fourth, however, he was savouring, pleasantly relaxed and not yet even slightly inebriated. Despite his reputation in many of the taverns around the countryside, Gwaine was seldom, if ever, drunk.

“I thought I might stay and see if I can join the guards. Lancelot was saying that Arthur would change things. I think I’d like to see that. What about you?”

Gwaine shrugged. “I don’t know – I’ve never been much of a one for staying in the same place, but I have to admit, there’s something about Arthur Pendragon that almost convinces me that not all nobles are tossers. He might just be a man worth following. He wants to see us all tomorrow apparently – Lancelot and Elyan, too.” He offered the tankard to the small dragon nestled in his hair. It sniffed it and then sneezed, looking offended and then turning so its back was towards the ale.

When Gwaine glared at Percival, he was drinking from his own beer, but his eyes were twinkling in what Gwaine considered was a suspicious manner.

“Perhaps he’ll offer us a job?” Percival suggested.

“Perhaps. Perhaps I’ll even take it. If you do, too.” Gwaine grinned.

Percival choked on his drink.

 

**

 

“My Lady.”

Gwen smiled. “I’m no noblewoman, Lancelot.”

“But you are my Lady?”

She stepped into his arms and raised her face for his kiss.

 

**

 

Morgana was back in her old quarters and for once it didn’t feel like a prison. Aithusa had made a nest of some old curtains Gwen had found and was curled up on the bed, watching sleepily as Morgana brushed her hair. Morgana had enjoyed a bath and felt clean for the first time in many months. Cook was obviously pleased to have her back, too, and she had been touched to see that all her favourites had been sent up to her, along with a couple of raw chickens suitable for a hungry young dragon. Aithusa had crunched them up bones and all, and then eaten everything else Morgana had left from her own meal.

As she approached the bed, she realised she’d left a candle burning, and with a wave of her hand, she extinguished it, delighted with her control. Aithusa chirped encouragingly from her cosy nest and Morgana laughed.

With a soft sigh, she curled up under the covers and was asleep.

She did dream. She was a Seer after all.

She dreamed of flying.

 

**

 

The Castle settled down for the night with some more content than others. In his cell, Julius Borden cursed his luck; Uther stared into the fire and wondered at the ease with which he’d ceded his crown and the relief that had followed; Morgause stared out of her window at the courtyard below and dreamed of the tall towers of the temple she remembered from her childhood; Gaius pottered around tidying up his work bench; Geoffrey slipped into the Library, pulling down a book that opened up his secret chamber and looked in satisfaction at the books that would soon be needed once more. He ignored the box that wobbled and banged and tried to attract his attention.

 

Tangled together, a King and a Dragonlord made their own vows to one another, setting bonds in place that not even time would break.

 

Eventually though, they all slept, ready to wake to a new dawn and a new beginning for Camelot.


End file.
